A Peaceful Night
by Rhysand-vs-Fenrys
Summary: The holidays are a time for too many parties, too many people, and too much noise. After the festivities are over though, one can take solace in the love of their other half and the light that person brings into their life. ***As a year end/holiday special, this fic comes in 6 different versions across the ToG and ACOTAR fandoms
1. Manorian Edition

**Manorian Edition**

Long after the festivities were over and the guests had drifted away, Dorian found himself wandering through the wreckage of his not-so-secret second home.

Scraps of wrapping paper and torn ribbons festooned the entryway, parlor, and back halls. Dishes covered in scraps of food were piled high on every available surface. Dorian's ears still bled with the roaring of endless banter- much of it his own as he chatted idly with his friends.

In all over a hundred people trickled through the Rifthold estate for some early Yulemas celebrations- largely witches he'd met who chose to remain in Adarlan or servants of the palace who he'd befriended.

He and Manon had prepared gifts for everyone, mountains of holiday sweets, gallons of hot cocoa, and what felt like an entire farm's worth of roast meat, potatoes, and vegetables (not to mention the entire cow they'd had delivered for Abraxos to feast on in the garden). The sheer quantity of food was stunning to behold as they set up, but it was still barely enough. Just four small bundles of scented candles or samplers of Rifthold-made alcohol remained- each neatly labeled for someone who hadn't made it to the party.

Three days before Yulemas, and Dorian had already survived his third party. The first was an early feast in Terrasen to mark altogether the holiday, the first anniversary of Maeve and Erawan's defeat, and the unveiling of a monument to the Thirteen who Yielded. On its heels came a more informal gathering in the Witch Kingdom, then this party- somehow louder and more chaotic than any that preceded it. The next day he and Manon would attend Chaol and Yrene's Yulemas party, then it was back to the palace for two days of merrymaking (and drinking) before heavenly quiet returned.

Dorian loved the light and life, but five gatherings in a week took its toll.

Even though he knew one of the two servants of the house would clean up the mess in the morning, Dorian picked up a trash bag and began in the kitchen. It would be easy to just go upstairs and rest, but he wanted to do something with his own two hands. He wanted to earn it, to feel a sense of accomplishment and surprise the maids with an easier day than they were expecting.

Manon was outside getting Abraxos settled for the night, for Dorian the same easing of stress would come from a job well done (and maybe a candlelit bath with Manon later).

First, he cleared off every crumb of food or half-eaten cookie. Next, he set aside anything they might still nibble at the next day (which amounted to a plate of cheese and a few gingerbread cookies). In the parlor, he cleared all the trash with the aid of another three bags, then it was the ruins of the buffet in the dining room, and finally wisps of debris in the entrance and guest bathrooms.

With the trash taken care of, there was finally space to move dishes into the kitchen to be washed. Already he was feeling better. Methodical, tedious, repetitious- it was like training without the threat of broken bones.

He could hear Manon come in from outside, but he wasn't concerned that she would start helping. She knew what it felt like to be social-to-death, and there was no more mess in the parlor for her to clean. Manon merely kindled the fireplace, straightened up a couple of decorations, and went to change out of the loose shirt and linen pants she'd worn for the party.

Dorian stopped four times to dry the dishes building up in the drainboard, but even so he made quick work of his task. When he finally ran out of things to do and realized there was nothing left to tidy up, he smiled. The next three days of feasting and celebrations would be with Chaol and Yrene, and he was looking forward to everyone's faces as they opened their Yulemas gifts this year- especially his goddaughter Josefin, who he and Aelin had conspired to get three speckled black puppies (already potty trained, of course).

The puppies were asleep in a small heap in Dorian's study- the only room downstairs that could be closed off with a door and yet was within sight of Abraxos, who had a calming effect on the hyper puppies. He was oddly cautious of the little ones underfoot, as if he knew they were to be companions to the tiny human who loved to crawl-chase him around the yard.

He was hesitant at first about buying the ruined estate beside Chaol's. He had an entire palace to call his own already, but he wanted somewhere he and Manon could be alone during her visits. Somewhere that let him feel like a normal man, not the King of Adarlan. His two servants were the only ones allowed within the confines of the residence, everyone else who entered did so as friends (though, he'd befriended the servants as well).

It was the perfect home, no matter his initial reservations. Dorian found himself sleeping there more often than in the palace, and since he could shift and take on the form of any human, it was impossible for the poor guards Chaol sicced on him to ever keep track of their King. He could endure ruling an entire kingdom, but only if he had a place that was his own to go back to at the end of the day.

The palace belonged to the people of Adarlan, the estate to him and Manon alone.

Dorian smiled as he busied himself making twin mugs of coffee with slivers of chocolate melted in. A plate of slightly stale poppy-seed crackers (the only thing in the kitchen not holiday themed) accompanied the drinks onto a silver tray.

"Feel better?" Manon was back in the parlor by the time Dorian finished. An oversized blue robe was the only thing between her and the couch, and she'd already opened it to feel the heat of the fireplace on her bare skin.

"How could I not with a view like that?" Dorian winked as he handed Manon her mug. She pulled her arms from the sleeves of the robe and scooted over so that Dorian could sit beside her, "What about you?"

Manon sighed, "Promise me that after Chaol's party and Yulemas we won't have any celebrations for a month."

"Four months," Dorian clinked his mug against Manon's, "but then we have to celebrate Josefin's birthday and you know that will be an Erilea-wide event."

"As it should be," Yrene had saved all of their lives while Josefin was growing inside her, they both deserved to be canonized as far as Manon was concerned. "Is Josefin too young to learn how to ride a wyvern?"

"Eight months old? Yeah, just a bit too young," Dorian snorted.

"When she's three I'm having a child's saddle made for you and Abraxos, so she can at least go for rides."

"If she throws up on me, you're cleaning it off before I change back."

"Deal," Manon took Dorian's mug from him and he obediently removed his shirt before she returned it. Bargain struck, she nuzzled into his shoulder as he wrapped an arm around her naked torso and pulled her against his side. A simple comfort- to bask in the warmth of the fireplace with his lover in his arms and a mug of cocoa-coffee in his hand.

"The servants won't arrive until late tomorrow morning," Manon mused as she sipped her drink and listened to the fire crackle.

"I know."

"Chaol and Yrene aren't expecting us until early afternoon."

"I know that too," Dorian raised an eyebrow and peered down at Manon. His eyes drank in her breasts and he shifted the arm around her shoulders so that he could brush his thumb across the soft curve of one.

"Abraxos can open the outside latch on the study door if the puppies want out," it was a system they'd developed that worked better than expected.

"How bad do you think my memory is?"

"We're completely alone, and there won't be any interruptions for a long time," Manon shifted to murmur the words against his neck.

"I'm aware."

She growled, "Then take the damned hint."

"What hint?" Dorian teased. He innocently stretched- and when he settled one leg was over hers, "We're just discussing completely random things."

She only grinned as he tightened the grip his legs had on her thigh, holding her open.

"You assume a lot," Dorian nuzzled the top of Manon's head as his free hand traced lightly across her throat. When she closed her eyes and waited for him to kiss her he hesitated, then flashed a wicked grin, "Don't just hint, love. Take."

Manon's smile only grew, "Well in that case- kiss me."

"That's my girl."

"Make it good," she added.

Dorian was smiling as his lips brushed against hers. The first kiss was chaste, light. Dorian's fingers traced her collarbone. He was still smiling as he kissed her again with a hint of the passion he intended to unleash. Manon shivered in the fire's heat as she felt his tongue flick across the seam of her lips, but he didn't take the offer when she parted them for him.

Instead, Dorian drifted away from Manon's mouth, disobeying her instructions already. His soft lips never left her skin as he traced along the edge of her jaw to the delicate curve of her neck.

His hand found its way to her breast, though it took Manon a while to notice. Dorian's mouth against her neck made her heart race and her breath hitch. Blush crept across her cheeks and stained her chest. She'd told him to make his kiss good, he was doing his very best to exceed expectations.

Manon moaned as he gently rolled a peaked nipple between two fingers. Her thighs clenched and she panted when his tongue found its way up along the column of her throat. Dorian nipped at her jaw before claiming her mouth once more.

She grabbed the hand on her breast and pushed it down her torso towards the apex of her thighs. Dorian didn't move, waiting to see what precisely she wanted. She broke the kiss with a shuddering breath and both of them looked down to where his hand was poised and waiting. Manon shifted her legs apart then stretched her hand out across the back of his.

Slowly, she pushed one of his fingers down until it parted her folds. Dorian took the command and gently stroked as they both watched. Manon shivered against him and closed her eyes. One hand pushed her head back while the other positioned over her mound. At the same moment, Dorian latched back onto her neck and plunged his finger deep into her.

Manon jumped and her grip on his hand tightened. Dorian kept his pace slow and measured, enjoying the whimpers and small moans that escaped her lips. She rolled her hips, grinding against the hand that kept moving even as Dorian loosed a breathy laugh.

"Was the kiss good?"

"Um-huh," Manon bit her lip at the sweet sensation building inside of her.

"What should I do now?"

"Exactly what you're doing, and don't you dare stop," she turned her head to rest her forehead against his. Dorian's was already watching her when she opened her eyes and met his heavily lidded gaze.

He just grinned and slid a second finger in.

It wasn't fair. Dorian always teased and taunted Manon. She wanted to play with him for a change- so even as she closed her eyes again and enjoyed the wondrous feeling of his palm rocking against her knot and his fingers moving inside her, she took the hand that had been holding his in place and undid the stays of his pants.

With a bit of maneuvering (and a helpful scoot from Dorian) she pulled his member free from it's prison and stroked him in time with the pulse of his fingers. He cursed soundly when she flicked the pad of her thumb across the head, and again when her nails lightly scraped along the underside of his shaft.

He was already hard when she pulled him free of his pants, but Dorian still responded to her attentions. Usually he monitored her and slowed his pace whenever he felt she was too close to release. This time though he was giving her full command, so he just enjoyed the hand that stroked him.

Manon's breath hitched as the wave began to grow. Her grip on Dorian's iron length tightened. He wanted to give in to his own desires and take the first steps towards release, but Dorian was exhausted from the party. He had only one in him, so he would save it even if it drove him mad.

She was so soft and warm inside, it was an effort to keep moving his hand and resist pouncing on her. The scent of her arousal was thick as any pine and cinnamon scent in the air, and the way the firelight illuminated her body-

"Slow down," Dorian's whisper was a broken plea. He couldn't do it, couldn't last if she continued on looking like that.

She opened her eyes and grinned viciously, "I win?" A hand pushed Dorian's out from between her legs.

"I didn't know we were competing… but yes, you win," his laugh was breathless. He was panting harder than she was, and beads of precum dripped from the head of his member. If she went on for much longer he was going to be a shivering mess.

Manon tapped his pants, "Take these off."

"What kind of position are you wanting?" Dorian asked as he unlaced his shoes and pulled his pants and underwear off in one motion. He wasn't sure if he should move from where he was seated.

"You're fine exactly where you are," as soon as his pants were off she climbed across him to straddle his hips. He let her take his length in hand and guide it to her entrance.

Now for his favorite part of their joinings- Manon bit her lip and groaned as she pushed herself down onto him. Her breath hitched and her body tensed as she stretched to accommodate the sheer size of him. He was panting and tense as well, but he loved to watch her in those first moments before her body adjusted to him.

Manon's toes were curled when she finally settled against his lap. She was as full as she could comfortably be, and she smiled as he grabbed her chin and began to kiss her once more.

"Once I've come, you can do whatever you want," she murmured against his lips. Manon was as tired as her lover, and while she didn't mind if he continued to play with her once she'd climaxed, she couldn't muster the energy to participate.

Dorian laughed, "I've only got one in me as well."

She leaned back and raised an eyebrow, "Well in that case when we're done I hereby command you to carry me upstairs and bathe me."

"As you wish," he purred.

Manon rested her hands on Dorian's chest and rolled her hips, shifting him inside her. Her toes curled at the wondrous sensation and a warm shiver licked her spine.

Dorian's arms wrapped around her, holding her against him as she began to move in earnest, rising and falling enough to take advantage of the delicious friction without having to leave his embrace. Manon dipped down and kissed him again. Her hands found their way into Dorian's hair, and she held his head in place, lest he try to lavish more attention on her neck.

She wanted to come with his mouth against hers where she could feel every sharp inhale and enjoy his desperate moans. Hearing someone as disciplined as Dorian lose control made her blood boil and her core pulse with need. A broad hand slid down to her hip, helping to lift her as she rode him.

Manon felt the need between her legs turn into something sharp-edged and all consuming. She was forced to end the kiss with Dorian, but their lips just barely touched as they panted for breath together. He was as close as she was, and Manon could feel him shake with the effort to resist his release. He was doing it for her sake, to give her a chance to finish first.

"Almost," she moaned against his mouth. Dorian responded by slamming his hips up into her against the rhythm she'd set, interrupting her control. Manon cried out and by his third thrust, he felt her walls clamp down on him as her muscles went tight and loose at the same time.

She cried out his name as he let his own control slip and began to spill himself inside of her. Dorian never stopped moving, drawing out her climax and his as long as possible. His heat mixed with hers as Manon's hands dug into his hair and chest, holding him tight as her world exploded.

Dorian was done before her, so he slid a hand between their bodes and whipped at Manon's knot until her body began to shake and she suddenly pushed back from him, breaking their contact. He slid from her in the motion and Manon laughed, even as she twitched with phantom bolts of pleasure, "Good boy."

"I always try my best," he crawled the length of her body and kissed her again. Manon's arms wrapped around his neck and he managed to work two arms beneath her torso before sitting up, dragging her along with him.

"Bath time?"

"Bath time, as my lady commanded," Dorian stood with Manon in his arms and laughed as she wrapped her legs around his hips. He was glad for the empty house as he carried her out of the parlor all the way up to their private bathroom.

Manon was asleep in his arms by the time he reached the bathroom, and she didn't wake as he filled the tub and lowered her in. Dorian washed them both, smiling to himself all the while at the beautiful creature beside him.

"I love you," Manon murmured after Dorian carried her from the bathroom again, toweled dry and warmed to the bone from the bath.

"I love you too," he kissed her forehead and set her down in her place on the bed. Once Dorian was tucked into her back with an arm around her torso, he pulled up the comforter and breathed in the scent of her hair once again.

In that moment Dorian decided it didn't matter how many parties they had to endure or how many armies of people marched through their home during the festivities, he could survive it all on just the scent of his lover's hair and the warmth of her body beside him.

He couldn't imagine a more perfect life than the one fate had blessed him with.

Dorian smiled as he drifted off to sleep with the only gift he could ever wish for already wrapped in his arms.


	2. Elucien Edition

**Elucien Edition**

Long after the festivities were over and the guests had drifted back to their own homes, Lucien found himself wandering through the wreckage of the old Archeron estate.

Scraps of wrapping paper and torn ribbons festooned the entryway, parlor, and back halls. Dishes covered in scraps of food were piled high on every available surface. Lucien's ears still bled with the roaring din of endless noise- much of it his own as he played Courtier once more and dazzled the near-endless stream of impoverished mortals come for early Solstice celebrations.

In all over a hundred mortals trickled through what remained of the estate- those too stubborn to take Rhys' offer of sanctuary in Night but too poor to afford any kind of celebration for the holiday. These were the people displaced by war- many of whom hunted in the same woods as Feyre once upon a time. They were hollow-cheeked and vacant-eyed, and it was Lucien, Jurian, and Vassa's honor to provide them with several days worth of food, fresh clothing, toys for the young ones, and even a few creature comforts- all bundled in large festive boxes provided by the High Lords and Ladies of Prythian.

In addition to the supplies handed out, he and his friends had prepared mountains of holiday sweets, gallons of hot cocoa, and what felt like an entire farm's worth of roasted meat, potatoes, and vegetables- better food than these people had in a long time. The sheer quantity was stunning to behold as the three had set it all out, but it was still only barely enough.

Two days before Solstice proper, and Lucien had already survived his third party. The first was an early feast in Winter as Kallias formally swore Viviane in as High Lady before thousands of witnesses. On its heels came a more informal gathering of High Lords and Ladies in Day with Helion, then finally this party- somehow louder and more chaotic than either that preceded it. The next day he would travel north into Spring for a small celebration with Tamlin and some friends, then Solstice-proper would be at the riverfront estate in Velaris.

Lucien loved the light and life, but five gatherings in five days was already taking its toll.

With a wave of his hand, Lucien conjured a garbage sack and began in the kitchen. An insignificant blast of magic could easily have taken care of every scrap of mess in a second, but he didn't want it to be clean so quickly. He wanted to earn it, to feel a sense of accomplishment. Jurian and Vassa were otherwise engaged upstairs. For him, the third wheel in their little Band of Exiles, stress relief would have to come from a job well done (and maybe some time alone with a naughty book Jurian gave him for Solstice).

First, he scraped off any crumbs that remained- not that the starving masses had left much behind. They treated food with the same reverence Feyre had in her first days in Spring. After he was finished, he walked through the open rooms of the house, clearing away trash with the aid of another three bags. Then it was the bones that remained on the buffet in the dining room, and finally wisps of debris in the entrance, yard, and guest privvys.

With the trash taken care of, there was finally space to move dishes into the kitchen to be washed. Already he was feeling better. Methodical, tedious, repetitious- it helped set his frazzled mind at ease.

Something rustled behind him. At the sound of skirts whispering against the tile floor Lucien smiled, but he didn't stop what he was doing. He'd prayed to every god in creation that she would find her way to him. They had to hide their relationship in Velaris, but here- here they were free. Only Rhys knew- the one who would winnow her down for these nights.

Lucien had to stop to dry the dishes four times, but even so he made quick work of his task. When he finally ran out of things to do, he smiled. The mind-numbing task had given his brain a chance to reset and shook the weariness from his bones.

Before leaving the kitchen, he busied himself by making twin mugs of coffee with slivers of chocolate melted in. Knowing she wasn't one much for caffeine, he ensured hers was more hot cocoa than proper coffee. A plate of butter-cookies accompanied the drinks onto a platter, which he carried upstairs to his bedroom.

Elain was sitting in the middle of a sofa across from a roaring fire. Her dress was carefully folded on the dresser- her dresser once upon a time. When he, Vassa, and Jurien settled in the Archeron house, Lucien naturally chose Elain's room to be surrounded in his mate's scent- even though he wasn't entirely sure she wanted him. As Elain settled into being fae however, she recovered from Hybern's traumatic attack and gave Lucien a chance to court her in secret (lest Nesta lead an entire Illyrian legion to wipe him out).

Rhys and Feyre both knew that the pair were seeing one another, but only Rhys knew they'd recently added a physical side to their relationship. If Nesta was going to murder Lucien, he'd die knowing Elain tasted like peaches and cream.

Now only a plush blue blanket was between her bare skin and the couch, and she hadn't bothered covering herself with pesky underclothes, "Miss me?" she tipped her head back and smiled as Lucien came around the chair. It was nearly two weeks since they'd last seen one another, and his heart soared at the sight of her.

"How could I not?" Lucien smiled as he handed Elain her mug. She scooted over so that he could sit beside her, "How have you been?"

"Lonely," she took Lucien's mug as well and he obediently removed his shirt before settling onto the couch beside her. "I'll tell you what one of your Solstice gifts is early- I'm going to ask Rhys to teach me to winnow so that we can be together more often." Elain wouldn't leave her sister in Velaris and Lucien was happy living near the mortal lands. One day they would find a compromise for living conditions, but they were still enjoying the newness of everything. Those talks could happen once they were sure they were ready to give the whole mate-thing a go.

Elain nuzzled into Lucien's shoulder as he wrapped an arm around her naked torso and pulled her against his side. A simple comfort- to bask in the warmth of the fireplace with his love at his side and a mug of cocoa-coffee in his hand.

"I have to be ready to go by ten," Elain mused as she sipped her drink and listened to the fire crackle.

"I know." It was the routine pick-up time.

"We can't have any fun on Solstice- not with Nesta there watching."

"I know that too," Lucien raised an eyebrow and peered down at Elain. His brown eye drank in her breasts and he shifted the arm around her shoulders so that he could brush his thumb across the soft curve of one.

"We're alone right now, and I'm naked," she shifted to murmur the words against his neck.

"I'm aware."

Elain growled, "Then take the hint."

"What hint?" Lucien teased. He innocently stretched- and when he settled one leg was over hers, "We're just talking about our holiday plans and dress code."

She grinned as he tightened the grip his legs had on her thigh, holding her open.

"You assume a lot," Lucien nuzzled the top of Elain's head as his free hand traced lightly across her throat. When she closed her eyes and waited for him to kiss her he hesitated, then flashed a wicked smile, "Don't just hint, my love. Take."

"Fine," her voice was slightly breathless as she huffed a laugh, "in that case- kiss me."

"That's my girl."

"Make it good," she added.

Lucien was smiling as his lips brushed against hers. The first kiss was chaste, light. Lucien's fingers traced her collarbone. He was still smiling as he kissed her again with a hint of the passion he intended to unleash. Elain shivered in the fire's heat as she felt his tongue flick across the seam of her lips, but he didn't take the offer when she parted them for him.

Instead, Lucien drifted away from Elain's mouth, disobeying her instructions already. His soft lips never left her skin as he traced along the edge of her jaw to the delicate curve of her neck. Lucien breathed in the scent of her soap, brushing his nose against the damp strands of hair that had fallen into the bathwater.

His hand found its way to her breast, though it took Elain a while to notice. Lucien's mouth against her neck made her heart race and her breath hitch. Blush crept across her cheeks and stained her chest. She'd told him to make his kiss good, he was doing his very best to exceed expectations.

Elain moaned as he gently rolled a peaked nipple between two fingers. Her thighs clenched and she panted when his tongue found its way up along the column of her throat. Lucien nipped at her jaw before claiming her mouth once more.

She grabbed the hand on her breast and pushed it down her torso towards the apex of her thighs. Lucien didn't move, waiting to see what precisely she wanted. She broke the kiss with a shuddering breath and both of them looked down to where his hand was poised and waiting. Elain shifted her legs apart then stretched her hand out across the back of his.

Slowly, she pushed one of his fingers down until it parted her folds. Lucien took the command and gently stroked as they both watched. Elain shivered against him and closed her eyes. One hand pushed her head back while the other positioned over her mound. At the same moment, Lucien latched back onto her neck and plunged his finger deep into her.

Elain jumped and her grip on his hand tightened. Lucien kept his pace slow and measured, enjoying the whimpers and small moans that escaped her lips. She rolled her hips, grinding against the hand that kept moving even as Lucien loosed a breathy laugh.

"Was the kiss good?"

"Um-huh," Elain bit her lip at the sweet sensation building inside of her.

"What should I do now?"

"Exactly what you're doing, and don't you dare stop," she turned her head to rest her forehead against his. Lucien's was already watching her when she opened her eyes and met his heavily lidded gaze.

He just grinned and slid a second finger in.

It wasn't fair. Lucien always teased and taunted Elain. She wanted to play with him for a change- so even as she closed her eyes again and enjoyed the wondrous feeling of his palm rocking against her knot and his fingers moving inside her, she took the hand that had been holding his in place and undid the stays of his pants.

With a bit of maneuvering (and a helpful scoot from Lucien) she pulled his member free from it's prison and stroked him in time with the pulse of his fingers. He cursed soundly when she flicked the pad of her thumb across the head, and again when her nails lightly scraped along the underside of his shaft.

He was already hard when she pulled him free of his pants, but Lucien still responded to her attentions. Usually he monitored her and slowed his pace whenever he felt she was too close to release. This time though he was giving her full command, so he just enjoyed the hand that stroked him.

Elain's breath hitched as the wave began to grow. Her grip on Lucien's iron length tightened. He wanted to give in to his own desires and take the first steps towards release, but Lucien was exhausted from the party. He had only one in him, so he would save it even if it drove him mad.

She was so soft and warm inside, it was an effort to keep moving his hand and resist pouncing on her. The scent of her arousal was thick as any pine and cinnamon scent in the air, and the way the firelight illuminated her body-

"Slow down," Lucien's whisper was a broken plea. He couldn't do it, couldn't last if she continued on looking like that.

She opened her eyes and grinned viciously, "I win?" A hand pushed Lucien's out from between her legs.

"I didn't know we were competing… but yes, you win," his laugh was breathless. He was panting harder than she was, and beads of precum dripped from the head of his member. If she went on for much longer he was going to be a shivering mess.

Elain tapped his pants, "Take these off."

"What kind of position are you wanting?" Lucien asked as he unlaced his shoes and pulled his pants and underwear off in one motion. He wasn't sure if he should move from where he was seated.

"You're fine exactly where you are," as soon as his pants were off she climbed across him to straddle his hips. He let her take his length in hand and guide it to her entrance.

Now for his favorite part of their joinings- Elain bit her lip and groaned as she pushed herself down onto him. Her breath hitched and her body tensed as she stretched to accommodate the sheer size of him. He was panting and tense as well, but he loved to watch her in those first moments before her body adjusted to him.

Elain's toes were curled when she finally settled against his lap. She was as full as she could comfortably be, and she smiled as he grabbed her chin and began to kiss her once more.

"Once I've come, you can do whatever you want," she murmured against his lips. Elain was as tired as her lover, and while she didn't mind if he continued to play with her once she'd climaxed, she couldn't muster the energy to participate.

Lucien laughed, "I've only got one in me as well."

She leaned back and raised an eyebrow, "Well in that case when we're done I hereby command you to carry me upstairs and bathe me again."

"As you wish," he purred.

Elain rested her hands on Lucien's chest and rolled her hips, shifting him inside her. Her toes curled at the wondrous sensation and a warm shiver licked her spine.

Lucien's arms wrapped around her, holding her against him as she began to move in earnest, rising and falling enough to take advantage of the delicious friction without having to leave his embrace. Elain dipped down and kissed him again. Her hands found their way into Lucien's hair, and she held his head in place, lest he try to lavish more attention on her neck.

She wanted to come with his mouth against hers where she could feel every sharp inhale and enjoy his desperate moans. Hearing someone as disciplined as Lucien lose control made her blood boil and her core pulse with need. A broad hand slid down to her hip, helping to lift her as she rode him.

Elain felt the need between her legs turn into something sharp-edged and all consuming. She was forced to end the kiss with Lucien, but their lips just barely touched as they panted for breath together. He was as close as she was, and Elain could feel him shake with the effort to resist his release. He was doing it for her sake, to give her a chance to finish first.

"Almost," she moaned against his mouth. Lucien responded by slamming his hips up into her against the rhythm she'd set, interrupting her control. Elain cried out and by his third thrust, he felt her walls clamp down on him as her muscles went tight and loose at the same time.

She cried out his name as he let his own control slip and began to spill himself inside of her. Lucien never stopped moving, drawing out her climax and his as long as possible. His heat mixed with hers as Elain's hands dug into his hair and chest, holding him tight as her world exploded.

Lucien was done before her, so he slid a hand between their bodes and whipped at Elain's knot until her body began to shake and she suddenly pushed back from him, breaking their contact. He slid from her in the motion and Elain laughed, even as she twitched with phantom bolts of pleasure, "Good boy."

"I always try my best," he crawled the length of her body and kissed her again. Elain's arms wrapped around his neck and he managed to work two arms beneath her torso before sitting up, dragging her along with him.

"Bath time?"

"Bath time, as my lady commanded," Lucien stood with Elain in his arms and laughed as she wrapped her legs around his hips. He was glad for the empty house as he carried her out of the parlor all the way up to their private bathroom.

Elain was asleep in his arms by the time he reached the bathroom, and she didn't wake as he filled the tub and lowered her in. Lucien washed them both, smiling to himself all the while at the beautiful creature beside him.

"I love you," Elain murmured after Lucien carried her from the bathroom again, toweled dry and warmed to the bone from the bath.

"I love you too," he kissed her forehead and set her down in her place on the bed. Once Lucien was tucked into her back with an arm around her torso, he pulled up the comforter and breathed in the scent of her hair once again.

In that moment Lucien decided it didn't matter how many parties they had to endure or how many armies of people marched through their home during the festivities, he could survive it all on just the scent of his lover's hair and the warmth of her body beside him.

He couldn't imagine a more perfect life than the one fate had blessed him with.

Lucien smiled as he drifted off to sleep with the only gift he could ever wish for already wrapped in his arms.


	3. Chaorene Edition

**Chaorene Edition**

Long after the festivities were over and the guest had drifted back to their own homes, Chaol found himself wandering through the wreckage of his Rifthold estate.

Scraps of wrapping paper and torn ribbons festooned the entryway, parlor, and back halls. Dishes covered in scraps of food were piled high on every available surface. Chaol's ears still bled with the roaring din of endless noise- much of it his own as he played tag with the younger trainees in the back garden or chatted idly with their parents.

In all over a hundred people trickled through the estate for some early Yulemas celebrations- Yrene's students, their families, and those Torre healers who'd remained in Erilea to help her realize her dream of opening a second college. Chaol and his wife had prepared small gifts for every visitor, mountains of holiday sweets, gallons of hot cocoa, and what felt like an entire farm's worth of roast meat, potatoes, and vegetables. The sheer quantity was stunning to behold as they set up, but it was still barely enough. Just four wrapped gifts remained in the entryway- each neatly labeled for a student who wasn't there that night.

Two days before Yulemas, and Chaol had already survived his fourth party. The first was an early feast in Terrasen to mark altogether the holiday, the first anniversary of Maeve and Erawan's defeat, and the unveiling of a monument to the Thirteen who Yielded. On its heels came a more informal gathering in the Witch Kingdom, followed by a party at the small estate Dorian and Manon bought together so that they had somewhere without the prying eyes of the palace servants, and then finally this party- somehow louder and more chaotic than any that preceded it. The next day Chaol and his family would move to their chambers in the castle for two days of merrymaking (and drinking) before heavenly quiet returned.

Chaol loved the light and life, but five gatherings in a week took its toll.

Even though he knew the morning servants would clean up the mess, Chaol picked up a trash bag and began in the kitchen. It would be so easy to go upstairs and give his aching back a rest, but he wanted to do something with his own two hands. He wanted to earn it, to feel a sense of accomplishment and surprise the servants with an easier day than they were expecting.

Yrene was upstairs soaking in a candlelit bath, for him the same easing of stress would come from a job well done (and maybe a bath of his own later).

First, he cleared off every crumb of food or half-eaten cookie. Next, he set aside anything they might still nibble at the next day (which amounted to a plate of cheese slices and a few gingerbread cookies). In the parlor, he cleared all the trash with the aid of another three bags, then it was the ruins of the buffet in the dining room, and finally wisps of debris in the entrance, yard, and guest bathrooms.

With the trash taken care of, there was finally space to move dishes into the kitchen to be washed. Already he was feeling better. Methodical, tedious, repetitious- it was like training without the threat of broken bones.

He could hear Yrene come downstairs and head for the parlor, but he wasn't concerned that she would start helping. She knew what it felt like to be social-to-death, and there was no more mess in the parlor for her to clean. Yrene merely kindled the fireplace, straightened up a couple of decorations, and reclined on a low couch.

Chaol stopped four times to dry the dishes building up in the drainboard, but even so he made quick work of his task. When he finally ran out of things to do and realized there was nothing left to tidy up, he smiled. The next two days of feasting and celebrations would be with Dorian and a visiting Manon, and he was looking forward to everyone's faces as they opened their Yulemas gifts this year.

Though she was too small to enjoy it, he was also excited for his daughter's first holiday. The King, Queen, Prince, and new Princess of Terrasen had already lavished so many gifts on Josefin (named for Yrene's mother) that Dorian had to take wyvern form and make a special trip back to Adarlan with the haul. Leaving the witch kingdom a couple days later, he and Abraxos each took half a net filled with wrapped gifts- it seemed like all of Erilea was doting on his daughter, not that Chaol minded one bit. Still- he had to beg Aelin and Dorian not to give the infant a pack of speckled black puppies for Yulemas.

'Fine,' Aelin had relented when he explained an infant plus three puppies was just too much stress, 'but when she's three, she gets four dogs.'

Chaol's mother was in her and Terrin's wing of the estate with Joesfin now. Free of his father's abuse and evil, the Lady Westfall had blossomed in Rifthold. As Josefin's self-appointed nanny, she'd made a pack of new friends at the children's park. Once forced by his father to remain solely among the elite, her circle now included servants, governesses, and even a few scullery maids. He'd never seen her happier- and to be frank Chaol and Yrene were more than happy to let her take the baby one night a week so that they could have a few precious hours of uninterrupted rest.

This life- it was a miracle Chaol never thought he'd have. A wife whose love for him was as soul-deep as his for her, a perfect little baby girl he would do anything for (except take on three puppies), his best friend and brother on the throne where he belonged, and the kingdoms of Erilea united in friendship. Josefin was going to grow up in the kind of world people spoke of in legends- beautiful, peaceful, and happy-

-and with the Queen of Terrasen already conspiring to marry her to an as-of-yet unborn child of her own.

Chaol smiled as he busied himself making twin mugs of coffee with slivers of chocolate melted in. A plate of slightly stale poppy-seed crackers (the only thing in the kitchen not holiday themed) accompanied the drinks onto a silver tray.

"Feel better?" Yrene tipped her head back and smiled as Chaol entered the room. An oversized blue robe was the only thing between her and the couch, and she'd already opened it to feel the heat of the fireplace on her bare skin.

"How could I not?" Chaol winked as he handed Yrene her mug. She pulled her arms from the sleeves of the robe and scooted over so that Chaol could sit beside her. "What about you? Feeling better?"

"Promise me that after Yulemas we won't have any parties for a month."

"Four months," Chaol clinked his mug against Yrene's, "but then we have to celebrate Josefin's birthday and you know that will be another Erilea-wide event."

"As it should be."

Yrene took Chaol's mug from his hand and he obediently removed his shirt before she returned it. She nuzzled into his shoulder as he wrapped an arm around her naked torso and pulled her against his side. A simple comfort- to bask in the warmth of the fireplace with his wife in his arms and a mug of cocoa-coffee in his hand.

"We're heading to the palace tomorrow." Yrene mused as she sipped her drink and listened to the fire crackle.

"I know." The palace was only a ten minute walk away- if that far.

"Your mother leaves out the back with Josefin."

"I know that too," Chaol raised an eyebrow and peered down at Yrene. His eyes drank in her breasts and he shifted the arm around her shoulders so that he could brush his thumb across the soft curve of one.

"We're completely alone," she shifted to murmur the words against his neck.

"I'm aware."

Yrene growled, "Then take the damned hint."

"What hint?" Chaol teased. He innocently stretched- and when he settled one leg was over hers, "We're just talking about schedules."

She only grinned as he tightened the grip his legs had on her thigh, holding her open.

"You assume a lot," Chaol nuzzled the top of Yrene's head as his free hand traced lightly across her throat. When she closed her eyes and waited for him to kiss her he hesitated, then flashed a wicked grin, "Don't just hint, wife. Take."

Yrene's smile grew, "In that case- kiss me."

"That's my girl."

"Make it good," she added.

Chaol was smiling as his lips brushed against hers. The first kiss was chaste, light. Chaol's fingers traced her collarbone. He was still smiling as he kissed her again with a hint of the passion he intended to unleash. Yrene shivered in the fire's heat as she felt his tongue flick across the seam of her lips, but he didn't take the offer when she parted them for him.

Instead, Chaol drifted away from Yrene's mouth, disobeying her instructions already. His soft lips never left her skin as he traced along the edge of her jaw to the delicate curve of her neck. Chaol breathed in the scent of her soap, brushing his nose against the damp strands of hair that had fallen into the bathwater.

His hand found its way to her breast, though it took Yrene a while to notice. Chaol's mouth against her neck made her heart race and her breath hitch. Blush crept across her cheeks and stained her chest. She'd told him to make his kiss good, he was doing his very best to exceed expectations.

Yrene moaned as he gently rolled a peaked nipple between two fingers. Her thighs clenched and she panted when his tongue found its way up along the column of her throat. Chaol nipped at her jaw before claiming her mouth once more.

She grabbed the hand on her breast and pushed it down her torso towards the apex of her thighs. Chaol didn't move, waiting to see what precisely she wanted. She broke the kiss with a shuddering breath and both of them looked down to where his hand was poised and waiting. Yrene shifted her legs apart then stretched her hand out across the back of his.

Slowly, she pushed one of his fingers down until it parted her folds. Chaol took the command and gently stroked as they both watched. Yrene shivered against him and closed her eyes. One hand pushed her head back while the other positioned over her mound. At the same moment, Chaol latched back onto her neck and plunged his finger deep into her.

Yrene jumped and her grip on his hand tightened. Chaol kept his pace slow and measured, enjoying the whimpers and small moans that escaped her lips. She rolled her hips, grinding against the hand that kept moving even as Chaol loosed a breathy laugh.

"Was the kiss good?"

"Um-huh," Yrene bit her lip at the sweet sensation building inside of her.

"What should I do now?"

"Exactly what you're doing, and don't you dare stop," she turned her head to rest her forehead against his. Chaol's was already watching her when she opened her eyes and met his heavily lidded gaze.

He just grinned and slid a second finger in.

It wasn't fair. Chaol always teased and taunted Yrene. She wanted to play with him for a change- so even as she closed her eyes again and enjoyed the wondrous feeling of his palm rocking against her knot and his fingers moving inside her, she took the hand that had been holding his in place and undid the stays of his pants.

With a bit of maneuvering (and a helpful scoot from Chaol) she pulled his member free from it's prison and stroked him in time with the pulse of his fingers. He cursed soundly when she flicked the pad of her thumb across the head, and again when her nails lightly scraped along the underside of his shaft.

He was already hard when she pulled him free of his pants, but Chaol still responded to her attentions. Usually he monitored her and slowed his pace whenever he felt she was too close to release. This time though he was giving her full command, so he just enjoyed the hand that stroked him.

Yrene's breath hitched as the wave began to grow. Her grip on Chaol's iron length tightened. He wanted to give in to his own desires and take the first steps towards release, but Chaol was exhausted from the party. He had only one in him, so he would save it even if it drove him mad.

She was so soft and warm inside, it was an effort to keep moving his hand and resist pouncing on her. The scent of her arousal was thick as any pine and cinnamon scent in the air, and the way the firelight illuminated her body-

"Slow down," Chaol's whisper was a broken plea. He couldn't do it, couldn't last if she continued on looking like that.

She opened her eyes and grinned viciously, "I win?" A hand pushed Chaol's out from between her legs.

"I didn't know we were competing… but yes, you win," his laugh was breathless. He was panting harder than she was, and beads of precum dripped from the head of his member. If she went on for much longer he was going to be a shivering mess.

Yrene tapped his pants, "Take these off."

"What kind of position are you wanting?" Chaol asked as he unlaced his shoes and pulled his pants and underwear off in one motion. He wasn't sure if he should move from where he was seated.

"You're fine exactly where you are," as soon as his pants were off she climbed across him to straddle his hips. He let her take his length in hand and guide it to her entrance.

Now for his favorite part of their joinings- Yrene bit her lip and groaned as she pushed herself down onto him. Her breath hitched and her body tensed as she stretched to accommodate the sheer size of him. He was panting and tense as well, but he loved to watch her in those first moments before her body adjusted to him.

Yrene's toes were curled when she finally settled against his lap. She was as full as she could comfortably be, and she smiled as he grabbed her chin and began to kiss her once more.

"Once I've come, you can do whatever you want," she murmured against his lips. Yrene was as tired as her husband, and while she didn't mind if he continued to play with her once she'd climaxed, she couldn't muster the energy to participate.

Chaol laughed, "I've only got one in me as well."

She leaned back and raised an eyebrow, "Well in that case when we're done I hereby command you to carry me upstairs and bathe me again."

"As you wish," he purred.

Yrene rested her hands on Chaol's chest and rolled her hips, shifting him inside her. Her toes curled at the wondrous sensation and a warm shiver licked her spine.

Chaol's arms wrapped around her, holding her against him as she began to move in earnest, rising and falling enough to take advantage of the delicious friction without having to leave his embrace. Yrene dipped down and kissed him again. Her hands found their way into Chaol's hair, and she held his head in place, lest he try to lavish more attention on her neck.

She wanted to come with his mouth against hers where she could feel every sharp inhale and enjoy his desperate moans. Hearing someone as disciplined as Chaol lose control made her blood boil and her core pulse with need. A broad hand slid down to her hip, helping to lift her as she rode him.

Yrene felt the need between her legs turn into something sharp-edged and all consuming. She was forced to end the kiss with Chaol, but their lips just barely touched as they panted for breath together. He was as close as she was, and Yrene could feel him shake with the effort to resist his release. He was doing it for her sake, to give her a chance to finish first.

"Almost," she moaned against his mouth. Chaol responded by slamming his hips up into her against the rhythm she'd set, interrupting her control. Yrene cried out and by his third thrust, he felt her walls clamp down on him as her muscles went tight and loose at the same time.

She cried out his name as he let his own control slip and began to spill himself inside of her. Chaol never stopped moving, drawing out her climax and his as long as possible. His heat mixed with hers as Yrene's hands dug into his hair and chest, holding him tight as her world exploded.

Chaol was done before her, so he slid a hand between their bodes and whipped at Yrene's knot until her body began to shake and she suddenly pushed back from him, breaking their contact. He slid from her in the motion and Yrene laughed, even as she twitched with phantom bolts of pleasure, "Good boy."

"I always try my best," he crawled the length of her body and kissed her again. Yrene's arms wrapped around his neck and he managed to work two arms beneath her torso before sitting up, dragging her along with him.

"Bath time?"

"Bath time, as my lady commanded," Chaol stood with Yrene in his arms and laughed as she wrapped her legs around his hips. He was glad for the empty house as he carried her out of the parlor all the way up to their private bathroom.

Yrene was asleep in his arms by the time he reached the bathroom, and she didn't wake as he filled the tub and lowered her in. Chaol washed them both, smiling to himself all the while at the beautiful creature beside him.

"I love you," Yrene murmured after Chaol carried her from the bathroom again, toweled dry and warmed to the bone from the bath.

"I love you too," he kissed her forehead and set her down in her place on the bed. Once Chaol was tucked into her back with an arm around her torso, he pulled up the comforter and breathed in the scent of her hair once again.

In that moment Chaol decided it didn't matter how many parties they had to endure or how many armies of people marched through their home during the festivities, he could survive it all on just the scent of his wife's hair and the warmth of her body beside him.

He couldn't imagine a more perfect life than the one fate had blessed him with.

Chaol smiled as he drifted off to sleep with the only gift he could ever wish for already wrapped in his arms.


	4. Nessian Edition

**Nessian Edition**

Long after the festivities were over and the guests had drifted back to their own homes, Cassian found himself wandering through the wreckage of the cabin.

Scraps of wrapping paper and torn ribbons festooned the living room and back halls. Dishes covered in scraps of food were piled high on every available surface. Cassian's ears still bled with the roaring din of endless noise- much of it his own as he played tag with his young charges outside or chatted idly with their parents.

In all nearly fifty Illyrians trickled through his and Nesta's cabin for early Solstice celebrations- Nesta's troop and their families. The Archeron sister and her lover had prepared small gifts for every child, mountains of holiday sweets, gallons of hot cocoa, and what felt like an entire farm's worth of roasted meats, potatoes, and vegetables. The girls were only eleven, but they looked up to Nesta as a big sister. Their families were less affectionate towards both the non-Illyrian and the bastard who trained their girls. By the end of the festivities though Cassian was certain he'd won over more than half the parents.

Two days before Solstice, and Cassian had already survived his third party. The first was an early feast in WInter as Kallias formally swore Viviane in as High Lady before thousands of witnesses. On its heels came a more informal gathering in Day with Helion (joined by most of the High Lords and Ladies of Prythian), then this party- the smallest gathering by far and yet somehow louder and more chaotic than either that preceded it. The next day he and Nesta would head to Velaris for the customary two days of merrymaking (and drinking) that accompanied both Solstice and Feyre's birthday.

Cassian loved the light and life, but five gatherings in five days took its toll.

With a heavy sigh he picked up a garback sack and began on the dining and cooking area. Nesta was upstairs soaking in a candlelit bath, for him the same ease of strain would come from setting the house right again (and maybe he could have a bath later too).

First, he cleared off every crumb of food or half-eaten cookie in sight. Next, he set aside anything the two of them might nibble at for breakfast before the flight to Velaris (which amounted to a plate of cheese and some gingerbread cookies). In the sitting area, he cleared all trash with the aid of another three bags, then it was the ruins of the buffet on the dining table, finally wisps of trash in the downstairs bathroom.

With the trash taken care of, there was finally space to move the dishes into the kitchen to be washed. Cassian heated the water as much as he could stand and set to work. Already he was feeling better. Methodical, tedious, repetitious- it was like training with the threat of broken bones.

He heard Nesta come downstairs, but he wasn't concerned that she would put herself to work. She understood what it felt like to be social-to-death and need monotony to pull yourself back together. Cassian was a big boy, he would ask for help if he wanted it.

Cassian stopped four times to dry the dishes building up in the drainboard, but even so he made quick work of his task. When he finally ran out of things to do and realized there was nothing left to tidy up, he smiled. The next two days of feasting and celebrations would be in Velaris with their family, and he was looking forward to everyone's faces as they opened their solstice gifts this year.

He had a good idea of what Feyre and Elain were giving Nesta- an enchanted half-tall bookcase that connected to the private library at the riverfront estate. All Nesta had to do was leave a note with the books she wanted on any shelf and her sisters would load that special bookcase up for her to browse. Cassian helped send the two measurements for a spare corner where it would sit and she could spend her evenings after training reading without worrying about making the books last until her next trip to Velaris.

The mind-numbing task of washing the dishes gave Cassian the chance to remember his excitement and clear the exhaustion from his bones.

Nesta had lit a fire in the hearth, so Cassian set to making twin mugs of coffee with slivers of chocolate melted in. A plate of slightly stale poppy-seed crackers accompanied the drinks onto a platter- the only thing they had left in their small kitchen not holiday-themed.

"Feel better?" Nesta tipped her head back and smiled as Cassian came around the couch. An oversized blue robe was the only thing between her skin and the sofa, and she'd already opened it wide to feel the heat of the fireplace.

"How could I not?" Cassian winked as he handed Nesta her mug. She pulled her arms from the sleeves of the robe and scooted over so that Cassian could sit beside her. "What about you? Feeling better?"

"Promise me that after Solstice, we won't have any parties for a month."

"Two months." Cassian clinked his mug against Nesta's. They were both promised to attend the after-mating wedding of Thesan and his Captain of the Guard in late winter as part of the delegation from Night, but other than an orgy in Day they were absolutely not interested in, no other invitations had arrived.

Nesta took Cassian's mug from his hand and he obediently removed his shirt before she returned it. She scooted forward while he sat to give his wings room, then nuzzled into his shoulder. He wrapped an arm around her naked torso, and curved his wing to capture some of the fire's heat and directed it towards her skin. It was a simple comfort- to bask in the warmth of the fireplace with his love by his side and a mug of cocoa-coffee in his hand.

"We have to leave at nine to make it to Velaris for lunch." Nesta mused as she sipped her drink and listened to the fire crackle.

"I know."

"Azriel is seeing us tomorrow, so he won't winnow in," Azriel stopped by to pass information on to Cassian, gather reports on activity in the Steppes, and probably to 'subtly' check on Nesta as she continued to improve and find her way back from the darkness that had consumed her.

"I know that too," Cassian raised an eyebrow and peered down at Nesta. His eyes drank in her breasts and he shifted the arm around her shoulders so that he could brush his thumb across the soft curve of one.

"We're completely alone," she shifted to murmur the words against his neck.

"I'm aware."

Nesta growled, "Then take the damned hint."

"What hint?" Cassian teased. He innocently stretched- and when he settled one leg was over hers, "We're just discussing holiday plans."

Nesta grinned as he tightened the grip his legs had on her thigh, holding her open.

"You assume a lot," Cassian nuzzled the top of Nesta's head as his free hand traced lightly across her throat. When she closed her eyes and waited for him to kiss her he hesitated, then flashed a wicked smile, "Don't just hint, demon-witch. Take."

"Okay," her voice was slightly breathless as she huffed a laugh, "then- kiss me."

"That's my girl."

"Make it good," she added.

Cassian was smiling as his lips brushed against hers. The first kiss was chaste, light. Cassian's fingers traced her collarbone. He was still smiling as he kissed her again with a hint of the passion he intended to unleash. Nesta shivered in the fire's heat as she felt his tongue flick across the seam of her lips, but he didn't take the offer when she parted them for him.

Instead, Cassian drifted away from Nesta's mouth, disobeying her instructions already. His soft lips never left her skin as he traced along the edge of her jaw to the delicate curve of her neck. Cassian breathed in the scent of her soap, brushing his nose against the damp strands of hair that had fallen into the bathwater.

His hand found its way to her breast, though it took Nesta a while to notice. Cassian's mouth against her neck made her heart race and her breath hitch. Blush crept across her cheeks and stained her chest. She'd told him to make his kiss good, he was doing his very best to exceed expectations.

Nesta moaned as he gently rolled a peaked nipple between two fingers. Her thighs clenched and she panted when his tongue found its way up along the column of her throat. Cassian nipped at her jaw before claiming her mouth once more.

She grabbed the hand on her breast and pushed it down her torso towards the apex of her thighs. Cassian didn't move, waiting to see what precisely she wanted. She broke the kiss with a shuddering breath and both of them looked down to where his hand was poised and waiting. Nesta shifted her legs apart then stretched her hand out across the back of his.

Slowly, she pushed one of his fingers down until it parted her folds. Cassian took the command and gently stroked as they both watched. Nesta shivered against him and closed her eyes. One hand pushed her head back while the other positioned over her mound. At the same moment, Cassian latched back onto her neck and plunged his finger deep into her.

Nesta jumped and her grip on his hand tightened. Cassian kept his pace slow and measured, enjoying the whimpers and small moans that escaped her lips. She rolled her hips, grinding against the hand that kept moving even as Cassian loosed a breathy laugh.

"Was the kiss good?"

"Um-huh," Nesta bit her lip at the sweet sensation building inside of her.

"What should I do now?"

"Exactly what you're doing, and don't you dare stop," she turned her head to rest her forehead against his. Cassian's was already watching her when she opened her eyes and met his heavily lidded gaze.

He just grinned and slid a second finger in.

It wasn't fair. Cassian always teased and taunted Nesta. She wanted to play with him for a change- so even as she closed her eyes again and enjoyed the wondrous feeling of his palm rocking against her knot and his fingers moving inside her, she took the hand that had been holding his in place and undid the stays of his pants.

With a bit of maneuvering (and a helpful scoot from Cassian) she pulled his member free from it's prison and stroked him in time with the pulse of his fingers. He cursed soundly when she flicked the pad of her thumb across the head, and again when her nails lightly scraped along the underside of his shaft.

He was already hard when she pulled him free of his pants, but Cassian still responded to her attentions. Usually he monitored her and slowed his pace whenever he felt she was too close to release. This time though he was giving her full command, so he just enjoyed the hand that stroked him.

Nesta's breath hitched as the wave began to grow. Her grip on Cassian's iron length tightened. He wanted to give in to his own desires and take the first steps towards release, but Cassian was exhausted from the party. He had only one in him, so he would save it even if it drove him mad.

She was so soft and warm inside, it was an effort to keep moving his hand and resist pouncing on her. The scent of her arousal was thick as any pine and cinnamon scent in the air, and the way the firelight illuminated her body-

"Slow down," Cassian's whisper was a broken plea. He couldn't do it, couldn't last if she continued on looking like that.

She opened her eyes and grinned viciously, "I win?" A hand pushed Cassian's out from between her legs.

"I didn't know we were competing… but yes, you win," his laugh was breathless. He was panting harder than she was, and beads of precum dripped from the head of his member. If she went on for much longer he was going to be a shivering mess.

Nesta tapped his pants, "Take these off."

"What kind of position are you wanting?" Cassian asked as he unlaced his shoes and pulled his pants and underwear off in one motion. He wasn't sure if he should move from where he was seated.

"You're fine exactly where you are," as soon as his pants were off she climbed across him to straddle his hips. He let her take his length in hand and guide it to her entrance.

Now for his favorite part of their joinings- Nesta bit her lip and groaned as she pushed herself down onto him. Her breath hitched and her body tensed as she stretched to accommodate the sheer size of him. He was panting and tense as well, but he loved to watch her in those first moments before her body adjusted to him.

Nesta's toes were curled when she finally settled against his lap. She was as full as she could comfortably be, and she smiled as he grabbed her chin and began to kiss her once more.

"Once I've come, you can do whatever you want," she murmured against his lips. Nesta was as tired as her husband, and while she didn't mind if he continued to play with her once she'd climaxed, she couldn't muster the energy to participate.

Cassian laughed, "I've only got one in me as well."

She leaned back and raised an eyebrow, "Well in that case when we're done I hereby command you to carry me upstairs and bathe me again."

"As you wish," he purred.

Nesta rested her hands on Cassian's chest and rolled her hips, shifting him inside her. Her toes curled at the wondrous sensation and a warm shiver licked her spine.

Cassian's arms wrapped around her, holding her against him as she began to move in earnest, rising and falling enough to take advantage of the delicious friction without having to leave his embrace. Nesta dipped down and kissed him again. Her hands found their way into Cassian's hair, and she held his head in place, lest he try to lavish more attention on her neck.

She wanted to come with his mouth against hers where she could feel every sharp inhale and enjoy his desperate moans. Hearing someone as disciplined as Cassian lose control made her blood boil and her core pulse with need. A broad hand slid down to her hip, helping to lift her as she rode him.

Nesta felt the need between her legs turn into something sharp-edged and all consuming. She was forced to end the kiss with Cassian, but their lips just barely touched as they panted for breath together. He was as close as she was, and Nesta could feel him shake with the effort to resist his release. He was doing it for her sake, to give her a chance to finish first.

"Almost," she moaned against his mouth. Cassian responded by slamming his hips up into her against the rhythm she'd set, interrupting her control. Nesta cried out and by his third thrust, he felt her walls clamp down on him as her muscles went tight and loose at the same time.

She cried out his name as he let his own control slip and began to spill himself inside of her. Cassian never stopped moving, drawing out her climax and his as long as possible. His heat mixed with hers as Nesta's hands dug into his hair and chest, holding him tight as her world exploded.

Cassian was done before her, so he slid a hand between their bodes and whipped at Nesta's knot until her body began to shake and she suddenly pushed back from him, breaking their contact. He slid from her in the motion and Nesta laughed, even as she twitched with phantom bolts of pleasure, "Good boy."

"I always try my best," he crawled the length of her body and kissed her again. Nesta's arms wrapped around his neck and he managed to work two arms beneath her torso before sitting up, dragging her along with him.

"Bath time?"

"Bath time, as my lady commanded," Cassian stood with Nesta in his arms and laughed as she wrapped her legs around his hips. He held her tight as he carried her upstairs to bathe.

Nesta was asleep in his arms by the time he reached the bathroom, and she didn't wake as he filled the tub and lowered her in. Cassian washed them both, smiling to himself all the while at the beautiful creature beside him.

"I love you," Nesta murmured after Cassian carried her from the bathroom again, toweled dry and warmed to the bone from the bath.

"I love you too," he kissed her forehead and set her down in her place on the bed. Once Cassian was tucked into her back with an arm around her torso, he pulled up the comforter and breathed in the scent of her hair once again.

In that moment Cassian decided it didn't matter how many parties they had to endure or how many armies of people marched through their home during the festivities, he could survive it all on just the scent of his wife's hair and the warmth of her body beside him.

He couldn't imagine a more pe


	5. Elorcan Edition

**Elorcan Edition**

Long after the festivities were over and the guests had drifted away, Lorcan found himself wandering through the wreckage of Perranth Manor.

Scraps of wrapping paper and torn ribbons festooned the entryway, parlor, and back halls. Dishes covered in scraps of food were piled high on every available surface. Lorcan's ears still bled with the roaring of endless banter- much of it his own as he endured the idle chatter from the city's leaders.

In all over a hundred people trickled through the manor for some early Yulemas celebrations. Business owners, merchants, artists, builders, officials- each and every one of them were heavily invested in rebuilding and repopulating a city nearly eradicated by Erawan's forces. Perranth was hit particularly hard, seeing as the army had been camped in front of it. Lorcan couldn't help but wonder if some of the brutality was aimed at Elide personally, knowing she was one of Aelin's friends. If Maeve's forces joined with Erawan in Perranth, then that was almost guaranteed.

To celebrate the first real Yulemas after the war (the other didn't count because they were still camped at Orynth), Lorcan and Elide had prepared gifts for everyone, mountains of holiday sweets, gallons of hot cocoa, and what felt like an entire farm's worth of roast meat, potatoes, and vegetables. The sheer quantity was stunning to behold as they set up, but it was still barely enough. Just four wrapped gifts remained in the entryway- each neatly labeled for someone who hadn't made it to the party.

Two days before Yulemas, and Lorcan had already survived his third party. The first was an early feast in Orynth to mark altogether the holiday (celebrated with Dorian, Chaol, and Manon), the first anniversary of Maeve and Erawan's defeat, and the unveiling of a monument to the Thirteen who Yielded. On its heels came a more informal gathering of Cadre members with Aedion and Aelin to commemorate Gavriel's sacrifice (and get blasted drunk), and then finally this party- somehow louder and more chaotic than either that preceded it. The next day Lysandra was coming in wyvern form to carry him and Elide to Orynth for two days of merrymaking (and more drinking) before heavenly quiet returned.

Lorcan found that he loved the light and life, but five gatherings in a week took its toll.

Even though he knew the morning servants would clean up the mess, Lorcan picked up a trash bag and began in the kitchen. It would be easy to go upstairs and relax, but he wanted to do something with his own two hands. He wanted to earn it, to feel a sense of accomplishment and surprise the servants with an easier day than they were expecting. Perhaps it was because Elide had one been forced to serve as a maid- he couldn't stop himself from cleaning up before they even got a chance.

Elide was upstairs soaking her sore ankle in a candlelit bath, for him the same easing of stress and strain would come from a job well done (and maybe a bath of his own later).

First, he cleared off every crumb of food or half-eaten cookie. Next, he set aside anything they might still nibble at the next day (which amounted to a plate of cheese and a few gingerbread cookies). In the parlor, he cleared all the trash with the aid of another three bags, then it was the ruins of the buffet in the dining room, and finally wisps of debris in the entrance and guest bathrooms.

With the trash taken care of, there was finally space to move dishes into the kitchen to be washed. Already he was feeling better. Methodical, tedious, repetitious- it was like training without the threat of broken bones.

He could hear Elide come downstairs and head for the parlor, but he wasn't concerned that she would start helping. She knew what it felt like to be social-to-death, and there was no more mess in the parlor for her to clean. Elide merely kindled the fireplace, straightened up a couple of decorations, and reclined on a low couch.

Lorcan stopped four times to dry the dishes building up in the drainboard, but even so he made quick work of his task. When he finally ran out of things to do and realized there was nothing left to tidy up, he smiled. The next two days of feasting and celebrations would be with friends rather than near-strangers, and he was actually looking forward to everyone's faces as they opened their Yulemas gifts this year.

… Elide had thoroughly massacred the cold-hearted general. Her love turned Lorcan soft- or as soft as a prickly old fae could be.

He smiled as he busied himself making twin mugs of coffee with slivers of chocolate melted in. A plate of slightly stale poppy-seed crackers (the only thing in the kitchen not holiday themed) accompanied the drinks onto a silver tray.

"Feel better?" Elide tipped her head back and smiled as Lorcan entered the room. An oversized blue robe was the only thing between her and the couch, and she'd already opened it to feel the heat of the fireplace on her bare skin.

"How could I not," Lorcan winked and handed Elide her mug. She pulled her arms from the sleeves of the robe and scooted over so that Lorcan could sit beside her. "What about you? Feeling better? How's your ankle?"

"It's fine, just promise me that after Yulemas we won't have any parties for a month."

"Four months," Lorcan clinked his mug against Elide's, "but then we have to celebrate Josefin Westfall's birthday and you know that will be another Erilea-wide event."

"As it should be." Yrene had saved all of their lives while Josefin was growing inside her, they both deserved to be canonized as far as Elide was concerned.

She took Lorcan's mug from him in silent command and he obediently removed his shirt before she returned it. Elide nuzzled into his shoulder as he wrapped an arm around her naked torso and pulled her against his side. A simple comfort- to bask in the warmth of the fireplace with his wife in his arms and a mug of cocoa-coffee in his hand.

"Lysandra won't arrive until mid-morning." Elide mused as she sipped her drink and listened to the fire crackle.

"I know."

"The maids won't even come until after we leave."

"I know that too," he raised an eyebrow and peered down at Elide. His eyes drank in her breasts and he shifted the arm around her shoulders so that he could brush his thumb across the soft curve of one.

"We're completely alone, and there won't be any interruptions for a long time." Elide moved to murmur the words against his neck.

"I'm aware."

She growled, "Then take the damned hint."

"What hint?" Lorcan teased. He innocently stretched- and when he settled one leg was over hers, "We're just discussing the schedule."

She only grinned as he tightened the grip his legs had on her thigh, holding her open.

"You assume a lot," Lorcan nuzzled the top of Elide's head as his free hand traced lightly across her throat. When she closed her eyes and waited for him to kiss her he hesitated, then flashed a wicked grin, "Don't just hint, wife. Take."

Elide's smile only grew, "Well in that case- kiss me."

"That's my girl."

"Make it good," she added.

Lorcan was smiling as his lips brushed against hers. The first kiss was chaste, light. Lorcan's fingers traced her collarbone. He was still smiling as he kissed her again with a hint of the passion he intended to unleash. Elide shivered in the fire's heat as she felt his tongue flick across the seam of her lips, but he didn't take the offer when she parted them for him.

Instead, Lorcan drifted away from Elide's mouth, disobeying her instructions already. His soft lips never left her skin as he traced along the edge of her jaw to the delicate curve of her neck. Lorcan breathed in the scent of her soap, brushing his nose against the damp strands of hair that had fallen into the bathwater.

His hand found its way to her breast, though it took Elide a while to notice. Lorcan's mouth against her neck made her heart race and her breath hitch. Blush crept across her cheeks and stained her chest. She'd told him to make his kiss good, he was doing his very best to exceed expectations.

Elide moaned as he gently rolled a peaked nipple between two fingers. Her thighs clenched and she panted when his tongue found its way up along the column of her throat. Lorcan nipped at her jaw before claiming her mouth once more.

She grabbed the hand on her breast and pushed it down her torso towards the apex of her thighs. Lorcan didn't move, waiting to see what precisely she wanted. She broke the kiss with a shuddering breath and both of them looked down to where his hand was poised and waiting. Elide shifted her legs apart then stretched her hand out across the back of his.

Slowly, she pushed one of his fingers down until it parted her folds. Lorcan took the command and gently stroked as they both watched. Elide shivered against him and closed her eyes. One hand pushed her head back while the other positioned over her mound. At the same moment, Lorcan latched back onto her neck and plunged his finger deep into her.

Elide jumped and her grip on his hand tightened. Lorcan kept his pace slow and measured, enjoying the whimpers and small moans that escaped her lips. She rolled her hips, grinding against the hand that kept moving even as Lorcan loosed a breathy laugh.

"Was the kiss good?"

"Um-huh," Elide bit her lip at the sweet sensation building inside of her.

"What should I do now?"

"Exactly what you're doing, and don't you dare stop," she turned her head to rest her forehead against his. Lorcan's was already watching her when she opened her eyes and met his heavily lidded gaze.

He just grinned and slid a second finger in.

It wasn't fair. Lorcan always teased and taunted Elide. She wanted to play with him for a change- so even as she closed her eyes again and enjoyed the wondrous feeling of his palm rocking against her knot and his fingers moving inside her, she took the hand that had been holding his in place and undid the stays of his pants.

With a bit of maneuvering (and a helpful scoot from Lorcan) she pulled his member free from it's prison and stroked him in time with the pulse of his fingers. He cursed soundly when she flicked the pad of her thumb across the head, and again when her nails lightly scraped along the underside of his shaft.

He was already hard when she pulled him free of his pants, but Lorcan still responded to her attentions. Usually he monitored her and slowed his pace whenever he felt she was too close to release. This time though he was giving her full command, so he just enjoyed the hand that stroked him.

Elide's breath hitched as the wave began to grow. Her grip on Lorcan's iron length tightened. He wanted to give in to his own desires and take the first steps towards release, but Lorcan was exhausted from the party. He had only one in him, so he would save it even if it drove him mad.

She was so soft and warm inside, it was an effort to keep moving his hand and resist pouncing on her. The scent of her arousal was thick as any pine and cinnamon scent in the air, and the way the firelight illuminated her body-

"Slow down," Lorcan's whisper was a broken plea. He couldn't do it, couldn't last if she continued on looking like that.

She opened her eyes and grinned viciously, "I win?" A hand pushed Lorcan's out from between her legs.

"I didn't know we were competing… but yes, you win," his laugh was breathless. He was panting harder than she was, and beads of precum dripped from the head of his member. If she went on for much longer he was going to be a shivering mess.

Elide tapped his pants, "Take these off."

"What kind of position are you wanting?" Lorcan asked as he unlaced his shoes and pulled his pants and underwear off in one motion. He wasn't sure if he should move from where he was seated.

"You're fine exactly where you are," as soon as his pants were off she climbed across him to straddle his hips. He let her take his length in hand and guide it to her entrance.

Now for his favorite part of their joinings- Elide bit her lip and groaned as she pushed herself down onto him. Her breath hitched and her body tensed as she stretched to accommodate the sheer size of him. He was panting and tense as well, but he loved to watch her in those first moments before her body adjusted to him.

Elide's toes were curled when she finally settled against his lap. She was as full as she could comfortably be, and she smiled as he grabbed her chin and began to kiss her once more.

"Once I've come, you can do whatever you want," she murmured against his lips. Elide was as tired as her husband, and while she didn't mind if he continued to play with her once she'd climaxed, she couldn't muster the energy to participate.

Lorcan laughed, "I've only got one in me as well."

She leaned back and raised an eyebrow, "Well in that case when we're done I hereby command you to carry me upstairs and bathe me again."

"As you wish," he purred.

Elide rested her hands on Lorcan's chest and rolled her hips, shifting him inside her. Her toes curled at the wondrous sensation and a warm shiver licked her spine.

Lorcan's arms wrapped around her, holding her against him as she began to move in earnest, rising and falling enough to take advantage of the delicious friction without having to leave his embrace. Elide dipped down and kissed him again. Her hands found their way into Lorcan's hair, and she held his head in place, lest he try to lavish more attention on her neck.

She wanted to come with his mouth against hers where she could feel every sharp inhale and enjoy his desperate moans. Hearing someone as disciplined as Lorcan lose control made her blood boil and her core pulse with need. A broad hand slid down to her hip, helping to lift her as she rode him.

Elide felt the need between her legs turn into something sharp-edged and all consuming. She was forced to end the kiss with Lorcan, but their lips just barely touched as they panted for breath together. He was as close as she was, and Elide could feel him shake with the effort to resist his release. He was doing it for her sake, to give her a chance to finish first.

"Almost," she moaned against his mouth. Lorcan responded by slamming his hips up into her against the rhythm she'd set, interrupting her control. Elide cried out and by his third thrust, he felt her walls clamp down on him as her muscles went tight and loose at the same time.

She cried out his name as he let his own control slip and began to spill himself inside of her. Lorcan never stopped moving, drawing out her climax and his as long as possible. His heat mixed with hers as Elide's hands dug into his hair and chest, holding him tight as her world exploded.

Lorcan was done before her, so he slid a hand between their bodes and whipped at Elide's knot until her body began to shake and she suddenly pushed back from him, breaking their contact. He slid from her in the motion and Elide laughed, even as she twitched with phantom bolts of pleasure, "Good boy."

"I always try my best," he crawled the length of her body and kissed her again. Elide's arms wrapped around his neck and he managed to work two arms beneath her torso before sitting up, dragging her along with him.

"Bath time?"

"Bath time, as my lady commanded," Lorcan stood with Elide in his arms and laughed as she wrapped her legs around his hips. He was glad for the empty house as he carried her out of the parlor all the way up to their private bathroom.

Elide was asleep in his arms by the time he reached the bathroom, and she didn't wake as he filled the tub and lowered her in. Lorcan washed them both, smiling to himself all the while at the beautiful creature beside him.

"I love you," Elide murmured after Lorcan carried her from the bathroom again, toweled dry and warmed to the bone from the bath.

"I love you too," he kissed her forehead and set her down in her place on the bed. Once Lorcan was tucked into her back with an arm around her torso, he pulled up the comforter and breathed in the scent of her hair once again.

In that moment Lorcan decided it didn't matter how many parties they had to endure or how many armies of people marched through their home during the festivities, he could survive it all on just the scent of his wife's hair and the warmth of her body beside him.

He couldn't imagine a more perfect life than the one fate had blessed him with.

Lorcan smiled as he drifted off to sleep with the only gift he could ever wish for already wrapped in his arms.


	6. Feysand Edition

**Feysand Edition**

Long after the festivities were over and the guests had drifted back to their own homes, Rhysand found himself wandering through the wreckage of the riverfront house.

Scraps of wrapping paper and torn ribbons festooned the entryway, parlor, and back halls. Dishes covered in scraps of food were piled high on every available surface. Rhys' ears still bled with the roaring din of endless noise- much of it his own as he played tag with the younglings in the back garden or chatted idly with their parents.

In all over a hundred fae trickled through the riverfront estate for some early Solstice celebrations- Feyre's students, their families, and her artist friends. He and his mate had prepared small gifts for every child, mountains of holiday sweets, gallons of hot cocoa, and what felt like an entire farm's worth of roast meat, potatoes, and vegetables. The sheer quantity was stunning to behold as they set up, but it was still barely enough. Just four little bags of toys remained in the entryway- each neatly labeled for a student who wasn't there that night.

Two days before Solstice, and Rhys had already survived his third party. The first was an early feast in Winter as Kallias formally swore Viviane in as High Lady before thousands of witnesses. On its heels came a more informal gathering of High Lords and Ladies in Day with Helion, then finally this party- somehow louder and more chaotic than either that preceded it. The next day Cassian, Amren, Mor, Nesta, Lucien, and Azriel would arrive for the customary two days of merrymaking (and drinking) before heavenly quiet returned.

Rhysand loved the light and life, but five gatherings in five days took its toll.

With a wave of his hand, Rhysand conjured a garbage sack and began in the kitchen. An insignificant blast of magic could easily take care of every scrap of mess in a second, but he didn't want it to be clean so quickly. He wanted to earn it, to feel a sense of accomplishment. Feyre was upstairs soaking in a candlelit bath, for him the same easing of stress would come from a job well done (and maybe his own bath later).

First, he cleared off every crumb of food or half-eaten cookie. Next, he set aside anything they might still nibble at the next day (which amounted to a plate of cheese slices and a few gingerbread cookies). In the parlor, he cleared all trash with the aid of another three bags, then it was the ruins of the buffet in the dining room, and finally wisps of debris in the entrance, yard, and guest bathrooms.

With the trash taken care of, there was finally space to move dishes into the kitchen to be washed.

The magic embedded in their house pushed at him as it tried to take over the chores, but Rhys pushed right back. Already he was feeling better. Methodical, tedious, repetitious- it was like training without the threat of broken bones.

He could sense Feyre moving around two rooms away, but he wasn't concerned. She understood what it felt like to be social-to-death, and there was no more mess in the parlor for her to clean. Feyre merely kindled the fireplace, straightened up a couple of decorations, and reclined on a low couch.

Rhys stopped four times to dry the dishes building up in the drainboard, but even so he made quick work of his task. When he finally ran out of things to do and realized there was nothing left to tidy up, he smiled. The next two days of feasting and celebrations would be with their family, and he was looking forward to everyone's faces as they opened their Solstice gifts this year.

The mind-numbing task had given his brain a chance to remember that excitement and clear the fuzz out of his head.

The High Lord of Night busied himself making twin mugs of coffee with slivers of chocolate melted in. Knowing Feyre wasn't one for much caffeine, he ensured hers was more hot cocoa than proper coffee. A plate of slightly stale poppy-seed crackers accompanied the drinks- the only thing in the whole kitchen not holiday-themed.

"Feel better?" Feyre tipped her head back and smiled as Rhys entered the room. An oversized blue robe was the only thing between her and the couch, and she'd already opened it to feel the heat of the fireplace on her bare skin.

"How could I not?" Rhys winked as he handed Feyre her mug. She pulled her arms from the sleeves of the robe and scooted over so that Rhys could sit beside her. "What about you? Feeling better?"

"Promise me that after Solstice we won't have any parties for a month."

"Two months," Rhys clinked his mug against Feyre's. They were promised to attend the after-mating wedding of Thesan and his Captain of the Guard in late winter, but other than an orgy in Day they were absolutely not interested in, no other invitations had arrived.

Feyre took Rhys' mug from his hand and he obediently removed his shirt before she returned it. She nuzzled into his shoulder as he wrapped an arm around her naked torso and pulled her against his side. A simple comfort- to bask in the warmth of the fireplace with their mate against them and a mug of cocoa-coffee in their hand.

"We're helping Elain down from the House of Wind at mid-morning tomorrow," Feyre mused as she sipped her drink and listened to the fire crackle.

"I know."

The middle Archeron was utilizing the larger kitchen in the palace overlooking Velaris for her holiday baking. The food for their earlier party had been ordered from two different locations, but Elain insisted on doing all the heavy lifting for the Solstice-Eve and Solstice feasts.

"Nuala and Cerridwen aren't arriving until lunch." The twins were on separate holidays with their lovers.

"I know that too," Rhys raised an eyebrow and peered down at Feyre. His eyes drank in her breasts and he shifted the arm around her shoulders so that he could brush his thumb across the soft curve of one.

"We're completely alone," she shifted to murmur the words against his neck.

"I'm aware."

Feyre growled, "Then take the Cauldron-damned hint."

"What hint?" Rhys teased. He innocently stretched- and when he settled one leg was over Feyre's, "We're talking about holiday plans."

She just grinned as he tightened the grip his legs had on her thigh, holding her open.

"You assume a lot," Rhys nuzzled the top of Feyre's head as his free hand traced lightly across her throat. When she closed her eyes and waited for him to kiss her he hesitated, then flashed a wicked smile, "Don't just hint, my darling. Take."

The grin faded slightly, and uncertainty crept into Feyre's voice, "Take? Are you sure?"

She'd played the brat in bed, teasing and taunting, but that was different from what he was suggesting. After what Rhys survived Under the Mountain, and the long road he was still walking back from that horror-

"It's alright," Rhys claimed Feyre's mouth. "It's you." When she still didn't move- and the fear still didn't leave her face- he growled, "Take the Cauldron-damned hint."

"It's not a hint when you ask directly."

"That's right- I asked directly." he fixed her with an open, steady gaze and repeated, "It's alright. It's you."

"Okay," her voice was slightly breathless and she was still uncertain, "then- kiss me?"

Rhys cocked an eyebrow, "Is that a question, or-?"

It was her turn to growl, "Kiss. Me."

"That's my girl."

"Make it good," she added.

Rhys was smiling as his lips brushed against hers. The first kiss was chaste, light. Rhys' fingers traced her collarbone. He was still smiling as he kissed her again with a hint of the passion he intended to unleash. Feyre shivered in the fire's heat as she felt his tongue flick across the seam of her lips, but he didn't take the offer when she parted them for him.

Instead, Rhys drifted away from Feyre's mouth, disobeying her instructions already. His soft lips never left her skin as he traced along the edge of her jaw to the delicate curve of her neck. Rhys breathed in the scent of her soap, brushing his nose against the damp strands of hair that had fallen into the bathwater.

His hand found its way to her breast, though it took Feyre a while to notice. Rhys' mouth against her neck made her heart race and her breath hitch. Blush crept across her cheeks and stained her chest. She'd told him to make his kiss good, he was doing his very best to exceed expectations.

Feyre moaned as he gently rolled a peaked nipple between two fingers. Her thighs clenched and she panted when his tongue found its way up along the column of her throat. Rhys nipped at her jaw before claiming her mouth once more.

She grabbed the hand on her breast and pushed it down her torso towards the apex of her thighs. Rhys didn't move, waiting to see what precisely she wanted. She broke the kiss with a shuddering breath and both of them looked down to where his hand was poised and waiting. Feyre shifted her legs apart then stretched her hand out across the back of his.

Slowly, she pushed one of his fingers down until it parted her folds. Rhys took the command and gently stroked as they both watched. Feyre shivered against him and closed her eyes. One hand pushed her head back while the other positioned over her mound. At the same moment, Rhys latched back onto her neck and plunged his finger deep into her.

Feyre jumped and her grip on his hand tightened. Rhys kept his pace slow and measured, enjoying the whimpers and small moans that escaped her lips. She rolled her hips, grinding against the hand that kept moving even as Rhys loosed a breathy laugh.

"Was the kiss good?"

"Um-huh," Feyre bit her lip at the sweet sensation building inside of her.

"What should I do now?"

"Exactly what you're doing, and don't you dare stop," she turned her head to rest her forehead against his. Rhys' was already watching her when she opened her eyes and met his heavily lidded gaze.

He just grinned and slid a second finger in.

It wasn't fair. Rhys always teased and taunted Feyre. She wanted to play with him for a change- so even as she closed her eyes again and enjoyed the wondrous feeling of his palm rocking against her knot and his fingers moving inside her, she took the hand that had been holding his in place and undid the stays of his pants.

With a bit of maneuvering (and a helpful scoot from Rhys) she pulled his member free from it's prison and stroked him in time with the pulse of his fingers. He cursed soundly when she flicked the pad of her thumb across the head, and again when her nails lightly scraped along the underside of his shaft.

He was already hard when she pulled him free of his pants, but Rhys still responded to her attentions. Usually he monitored her and slowed his pace whenever he felt she was too close to release. This time though he was giving her full command, so he just enjoyed the hand that stroked him.

Feyre's breath hitched as the wave began to grow. Her grip on Rhys' iron length tightened. He wanted to give in to his own desires and take the first steps towards release, but Rhys was exhausted from the party. He had only one in him, so he would save it even if it drove him mad.

She was so soft and warm inside, it was an effort to keep moving his hand and resist pouncing on her. The scent of her arousal was thick as any pine and cinnamon scent in the air, and the way the firelight illuminated her body-

"Slow down," Rhys' whisper was a broken plea. He couldn't do it, couldn't last if she continued on looking like that.

She opened her eyes and grinned viciously, "I win?" A hand pushed Rhys' out from between her legs.

"I didn't know we were competing… but yes, you win," his laugh was breathless. He was panting harder than she was, and beads of precum dripped from the head of his member. If she went on for much longer he was going to be a shivering mess.

Feyre tapped his pants, "Take these off."

"What kind of position are you wanting?" Rhys asked as he unlaced his shoes and pulled his pants and underwear off in one motion. He wasn't sure if he should move from where he was seated.

"You're fine exactly where you are," as soon as his pants were off she climbed across him to straddle his hips. He let her take his length in hand and guide it to her entrance.

Now for his favorite part of their joinings- Feyre bit her lip and groaned as she pushed herself down onto him. Her breath hitched and her body tensed as she stretched to accommodate the sheer size of him. He was panting and tense as well, but he loved to watch her in those first moments before her body adjusted to him.

Feyre's toes were curled when she finally settled against his lap. She was as full as she could comfortably be, and she smiled as he grabbed her chin and began to kiss her once more.

"Once I've come, you can do whatever you want," she murmured against his lips. Feyre was as tired as her husband, and while she didn't mind if he continued to play with her once she'd climaxed, she couldn't muster the energy to participate.

Rhys laughed, "I've only got one in me as well."

She leaned back and raised an eyebrow, "Well in that case when we're done I hereby command you to carry me upstairs and bathe me again."

"As you wish," he purred.

Feyre rested her hands on Rhys' chest and rolled her hips, shifting him inside her. Her toes curled at the wondrous sensation and a warm shiver licked her spine.

Rhys' arms wrapped around her, holding her against him as she began to move in earnest, rising and falling enough to take advantage of the delicious friction without having to leave his embrace. Feyre dipped down and kissed him again. Her hands found their way into Rhys' hair, and she held his head in place, lest he try to lavish more attention on her neck.

She wanted to come with his mouth against hers where she could feel every sharp inhale and enjoy his desperate moans. Hearing someone as disciplined as Rhys lose control made her blood boil and her core pulse with need. A broad hand slid down to her hip, helping to lift her as she rode him.

Feyre felt the need between her legs turn into something sharp-edged and all consuming. She was forced to end the kiss with Rhys, but their lips just barely touched as they panted for breath together. He was as close as she was, and Feyre could feel him shake with the effort to resist his release. He was doing it for her sake, to give her a chance to finish first.

"Almost," she moaned against his mouth. Rhys responded by slamming his hips up into her against the rhythm she'd set, interrupting her control. Feyre cried out and by his third thrust, he felt her walls clamp down on him as her muscles went tight and loose at the same time.

She cried out his name as he let his own control slip and began to spill himself inside of her. Rhys never stopped moving, drawing out her climax and his as long as possible. His heat mixed with hers as Feyre's hands dug into his hair and chest, holding him tight as her world exploded.

Rhys was done before her, so he slid a hand between their bodes and whipped at Feyre's knot until her body began to shake and she suddenly pushed back from him, breaking their contact. He slid from her in the motion and Feyre laughed, even as she twitched with phantom bolts of pleasure, "Good boy."

"I always try my best," he crawled the length of her body and kissed her again. Feyre's arms wrapped around his neck and he managed to work two arms beneath her torso before sitting up, dragging her along with him.

"Bath time?"

"Bath time, as my lady commanded," Rhys stood with Feyre in his arms and laughed as she wrapped her legs around his hips. He was glad for the empty house as he carried her out of the parlor all the way up to their private bathroom.

Feyre was asleep in his arms by the time he reached the bathroom, and she didn't wake as he filled the tub and lowered her in. Rhys washed them both, smiling to himself all the while at the beautiful creature beside him.

"I love you," Feyre murmured after Rhys carried her from the bathroom again, toweled dry and warmed to the bone from the bath.

"I love you too," he kissed her forehead and set her down in her place on the bed. Once Rhys was tucked into her back with an arm around her torso, he pulled up the comforter and breathed in the scent of her hair once again.

In that moment Rhys decided it didn't matter how many parties they had to endure or how many armies of people marched through their home during the festivities, he could survive it all on just the scent of his wife's hair and the warmth of her body beside him.

He couldn't imagine a more perfect life than the one fate had blessed him with.

Rhys smiled as he drifted off to sleep with the only gift he could ever wish for already wrapped in his arms.


	7. Elriel Edition

**A Peaceful Night- Elriel Edition**

Long after the festivities were over and the guests had drifted away, Azriel found himself wandering through the wreckage of his villa.

Scraps of wrapping paper and torn ribbons festooned the entryway, parlor, and back halls. Dishes covered in scraps of food were piled high on every available surface. Azriel's ears still bled with the roaring of endless banter- most of it belonging to the guests who had filtered through. Azriel himself spent most of the evening in a corner avoiding the crowd and resisting the urge to flee.

In all over a hundred people trickled through his little winery in the foothills of Velaris for some early Yulemas celebrations- most of them the workhands who actually tended the sprawling orchards and grapevines. Azriel's villa produced the finest apple, cherry, and grape wines in the region and it was all thanks to the fae who had gathered.

He'd prepared small gifts for everyone, mountains of holiday sweets, gallons of hot cocoa, and what felt like enough roast meat, potatoes, and vegetables to feed a small city. The sheer quantity of food was stunning to behold as he and Mor set up, but it was still barely enough. Just four coin purses remained on the low table, neatly labeled with the name of the fae they were intended for. Azriel would have them delivered to their owners- Solstice bonuses to mark the end of another profitable year.

Two days before Solstice, and Azriel had already survived his third party. The first was an early feast in Winter as Kallias formally swore Viviane in as High Lady before thousands of witnesses. On its heels came a more informal gathering in Day with Helion (joined by most of the High Lords and Ladies of Prythian), then this party- the smallest gathering by far and yet somehow louder and more chaotic than either that preceded it. The next day he would head to Velaris for the customary two days of merrymaking (and drinking) that accompanied both Solstice and Feyre's birthday.

Azriel did enjoy watching the light and life, but five gatherings in five days took its toll.

With a heavy sigh he picked up a garbage sack and began on the dining and cooking areas. It would be easy to unleash a blast of power from his siphons to mist the garbage, but be needed the catharsis of setting the house right again bit by bit.

First, he cleared off every crumb of food or half-eaten cookie in sight. Next, he set aside anything that could be nibbled on for breakfast before his return to Velaris (which amounted to a plate of cheese and some gingerbread cookies). In the sitting area he cleared all the trash with the aid of another three bags, then it was the ruins of the buffet table, and finally wisps of trash in the guest bathroom.

With the trash taken care of, there was finally space to move the dishes into the kitchen to be washed. Azriel heated the water as much as he could stand and set to work. Already he was feeling better. Methodical, tedious, repetitious- it was was similar to his nearly ritualistic cleaning of his interrogation rooms after a chat with Rhys' enemies.

Azriel heard the door open and close- then the soft padding of bare feet on rug from the hall, but he wasn't concerned that she would put herself to work. She understood how draining it was to be social-to-death, and she knew him well enough to leave the cleaning to him. Azriel was a big boy, he would ask for help if he wanted it.

Azriel stopped four times to dry the dishes building up in the drainboard, but even so he made quick work of his task. When he finally ran out of things to do and realized there was nothing left to tidy up, he smiled. The next two days of feasting and celebrations would be back in Velaris with his family, and he was looking forward to seeing everyone's reactions as they opened their Solstice (and birthday) gifts this year.

The mind-numbing task of washing the dishes gave Azriel the chance to remember his excitement and clear the exhaustion from his bones.

He heard a fire being lit in the parlor hearth, so Azriel set to making twin mugs of coffee with slivers of chocolate melted in. A plate of slightly stale poppy-seed crackers accompanied the drinks onto a platter- they were the only thing he had left in his kitchen not holiday-themed.

"Feel better?" Elain tipped her head back and smiled as Azriel came around the couch. An oversized blue robe was the only thing between her milky white skin and the sofa, and she'd already opened it wide to feel the heat of the fireplace.

"How could I not?" he smiled as he handed Elain her mug. She pulled her arms from the sleeves of the robe and scooted over so that Azriel could sit beside her. "What about you? You must be exhausted."

Elain was Azriel's most beloved secret, and as such she hadn't spent the evening at his party. Instead she was helping over at Feyre and Rhysand's estate where the High Lady was hosting a Solstice celebration for her art students.

"Promise me that after Solstice there won't be any parties for a month," Elain sighed.

"Two months," Azriel clinked his mug against hers. They were both set to stand in the Night Court retinue for the after-mating wedding of Thesan and his Captain of the Guard. Other than an orgy in Day Azriel had no interest in attending, he knew of no other events.

Elain took Azriel's mug from his hand and he obediently removed his shirt before she returned it. She scooted forward while he stretched out his wings before leaning back to nuzzle against his shoulder. He wrapped an arm around her naked torso, and curved his wing to capture some of the fire's heat and direct it towards her. It was a simple comfort- to bask in the warmth of the fireplace with his love by his side and a mug of cocoa-coffee in his hand.

"You have to leave by nine to make it to Velaris for lunch," Elain mused as she sipped her drink and listened to the fire crackle.

"I know."

"I have to be up at six to help Nuala and Cerridwen prepare desserts for the next few days."

"I know that too," Azriel raised an eyebrow and peered down at Elain. His eyes drank in her breasts and he shifted the arm around her shoulders so that he could brush his thumb across the soft curve of one.

"We're completely alone," she murmured the words against his neck.

"I'm aware."

"Then take the damn hint," Elain growled.

"What hint?" Azriel teased. He innocently stretched- and when he settled one leg was over hers, "We're just discussing our holiday schedules."

Elain grinned as he tightened the grip his leg had on her thigh, pulling her open slightly.

"You assume a lot," Azriel nuzzled the top of Elain's head as his free hand traced lightly across her throat. When she closed her eyes and waited for him to kiss her he hesitated, then flashed a wicked smile, "Don't just hint. Take."

"Okay," her voice was slightly breathless as she huffed a laugh, "then- kiss me."

"That's more like it."

"Make it good," she added.

Azriel was smiling as his lips brushed against hers. The first kiss was chaste, light. Azriel's fingers traced her collarbone. He was still smiling as he kissed her again with a hint of the passion he intended to unleash. Elain shivered in the fire's heat as she felt his tongue flick across the seam of her lips, but he didn't take the offer when she parted them for him.

Instead, Azriel drifted away from Elain's mouth, disobeying her instructions already. His soft lips never left her skin as he traced along the edge of her jaw to the delicate curve of her neck. Azriel breathed in the misty scent of her skin, growing drunk on the perfume of it.

His hand found its way to her breast, though it took Elain a while to notice. Azriel's mouth against her neck made her heart race and her breath hitch. Blush crept across her cheeks and stained her chest. She'd told him to make his kiss good, he was doing his very best to exceed expectations.

Elain moaned as he gently rolled a peaked nipple between two fingers. Her thighs clenched and she panted when his tongue found its way up along the column of her throat. Azriel nipped at her jaw before claiming her mouth once more.

She grabbed the hand on her breast and pushed it down her torso towards the apex of her thighs. Azriel didn't move, waiting to see what precisely she wanted. She broke the kiss with a shuddering breath and both of them looked down to where his hand was poised and waiting. Elain shifted her legs apart then stretched her hand out across the back of his.

Slowly, she pushed one of his fingers down until it parted her folds. Azriel took the command and gently stroked as they both watched. Elain shivered against him and closed her eyes. One hand pushed her head back while the other positioned over her mound. At the same moment, Azriel latched back onto her neck and plunged his finger deep into her.

Elain jumped and her grip on his hand tightened. Azriel kept his pace slow and measured, enjoying the whimpers and small moans that escaped her lips. She rolled her hips, grinding against the hand that kept moving even as Azriel loosed a breathy laugh.

"Was the kiss good?"

"Um-huh," Elain bit her lip at the sweet sensation building inside of her.

"What should I do now?"

"Exactly what you're doing," she turned her head to rest her forehead against his. Azriel's was already watching her when she opened her eyes and met his heavily lidded gaze.

He just grinned and slid a second finger in.

It wasn't fair. Azriel always teased and taunted Elain. She wanted to play with him for a change- so even as she closed her eyes again and enjoyed the wondrous feeling of his palm rocking against her knot and his fingers moving inside her, she took the hand that had been holding his in place and undid the stays of his pants.

With a bit of maneuvering (and a helpful scoot from Azriel) she pulled his member free from it's prison and stroked him in time with the pulse of his fingers. He cursed soundly when she flicked the pad of her thumb across the head, and again when her nails lightly scraped along the underside of his shaft.

He was already hard when she pulled him free of his pants, but Azriel still responded to her attentions. Usually he monitored her and slowed his pace whenever he felt she was too close to release. This time though he was giving her full command, so he just enjoyed the hand that stroked him.

Elain's breath hitched as the wave began to grow. Her grip on Azriel's iron length tightened. He wanted to give in to his own desires and take the first steps towards release, but Azriel was exhausted from the party. He had only one in him, so he would save it even if it drove him mad.

She was so soft and warm inside, it was an effort to keep moving his hand and resist pouncing on her. The scent of her arousal was thick as any pine and cinnamon scent in the air, and the way the firelight illuminated her body-

"Slow down," Azriel's whisper was a broken plea. He couldn't do it, couldn't last if she continued on looking like that.

She opened her eyes and grinned viciously, "I win?" A hand pushed Azriel's out from between her legs.

"I didn't know we were competing… but yes, you win," his laugh was breathless. He was panting harder than she was, and beads of precum dripped from the head of his member. If she went on for much longer he was going to be a shivering mess.

Elain tapped his pants, "Take these off."

"What kind of position are you wanting?" Azriel asked as he unlaced his shoes and pulled his pants and underwear off in one motion. He wasn't sure if he should move from where he was seated.

"You're fine exactly where you are," as soon as his pants were off she climbed across him to straddle his hips. He let her take his length in hand and guide it to her entrance.

Now for his favorite part of their joinings- Elain bit her lip and groaned as she pushed herself down onto him. Her breath hitched and her body tensed as she stretched to accommodate the sheer size of him. He was panting and tense as well, but he loved to watch her in those first moments before her body adjusted to him.

Elain's toes were curled when she finally settled against his lap. She was as full as she could comfortably be, and she smiled as he grabbed her chin and began to kiss her once more.

"Once I've come, you can do whatever you want," she murmured against his lips. Elain was as tired as her lover, and while she didn't mind if he continued to play with her once she'd climaxed, she couldn't muster the energy to participate.

Azriel laughed, "I've only got one in me as well."

She leaned back and raised an eyebrow, "Well in that case when we're done I hereby command you to carry me upstairs and bathe us both."

"As you wish," he purred.

Elain rested her hands on Azriel's chest and rolled her hips, shifting him inside her. Her toes curled at the wondrous sensation and a warm shiver licked her spine.

Azriel's arms wrapped around her, holding her against him as she began to move in earnest, rising and falling enough to take advantage of the delicious friction without having to leave his embrace. Elain dipped down and kissed him again. Her hands found their way into Azriel's hair, and she held his head in place, lest he try to lavish more attention on her neck.

She wanted to come with his mouth against hers where she could feel every sharp inhale and enjoy his desperate moans. Hearing someone as disciplined as Azriel lose control made her blood boil and her core pulse with need. A broad hand slid down to her hip, helping to lift her as she rode him.

Elain felt the need between her legs turn into something sharp-edged and all consuming. She was forced to end the kiss with Azriel, but their lips just barely touched as they panted for breath together. He was as close as she was, and Elain could feel him shake with the effort to resist his release. He was doing it for her sake, to give her a chance to finish first.

"Almost," she moaned against his mouth. Azriel responded by slamming his hips up into her against the rhythm she'd set, interrupting her control. Elain cried out and by his third thrust, he felt her walls clamp down on him as her muscles went tight and loose at the same time.

She cried out his name as he let his own control slip and began to spill himself inside of her. Azriel never stopped moving, drawing out her climax and his as long as possible. His heat mixed with hers as Elain's hands dug into his hair and chest, holding him tight as her world exploded.

Azriel was done before her, so he slid a hand between their bodes and whipped at Elain's knot until her body began to shake and she suddenly pushed back from him, breaking their contact. He slid from her in the motion and Elain laughed, even as she twitched with phantom bolts of pleasure, "Good boy."

"I always try my best," he crawled the length of her body and kissed her again. Elain's arms wrapped around his neck and he managed to work two arms beneath her torso before sitting up, dragging her along with him.

"Bath time?"

"Bath time, as my lady commanded," Azriel stood with Elain in his arms and laughed as she wrapped her legs around his hips. He held her tight as he carried her to the master bedroom to bathe.

Elain was asleep in his arms by the time he reached the bathroom, and she didn't wake as he filled the tub and lowered her in. Azriel washed them both, smiling to himself all the while at the beautiful creature beside him.

"I love you," Elain murmured after Azriel carried her from the bathroom again, toweled dry and warm to the bone from the bath.

"I love you too," he kissed her forehead and set her down in her place on the bed. Once Azriel was tucked into her back with an arm around her torso, he pulled up the comforter and breathed in the scent of her hair once again.

In that moment Azriel decided it didn't matter how many parties they had to endure or how many armies of people marched through the home during the festivities, he could survive it all on just the scent of his love's hair and the warmth of her body beside him.

He couldn't imagine a more perfect life than the one fate had blessed him with.

Azriel smiled as he drifted off to sleep with the only gift he could ever wish for already wrapped in his arms.


	8. Azuala Edition

**Azuala Edition**

Long after the festivities were over and the guests had drifted away, Azriel found himself wandering through the wreckage of his villa.

Scraps of wrapping paper and torn ribbons festooned the entryway, parlor, and back halls. Dishes covered in scraps of food were piled high on every available surface. Azriel's ears still bled with the roaring of endless banter- most of it belonging to the guests who had filtered through. Azriel himself spent most of the evening in a corner avoiding the crowd and resisting the urge to flee.

In all over a hundred people trickled through his little winery in the foothills of Velaris for some early Yulemas celebrations- most of them the workhands who actually tended the sprawling orchards and grapevines. Azriel's villa produced the finest apple, cherry, and grape wines in the region and it was all thanks to the fae who had gathered.

He'd prepared small gifts for everyone, mountains of holiday sweets, gallons of hot cocoa, and what felt like enough roast meat, potatoes, and vegetables to feed a small city. The sheer quantity of food was stunning to behold as he and Mor set up, but it was still barely enough. Just four coin purses remained on the low table, neatly labeled with the name of the fae they were intended for. Azriel would have them delivered to their owners- Solstice bonuses to mark the end of another profitable year.

Two days before Solstice, and Azriel had already survived his third party. The first was an early feast in Winter as Kallias formally swore Viviane in as High Lady before thousands of witnesses. On its heels came a more informal gathering in Day with Helion (joined by most of the High Lords and Ladies of Prythian), then this party- the smallest gathering by far and yet somehow louder and more chaotic than either that preceded it. The next day he would head to Velaris for the customary two days of merrymaking (and drinking) that accompanied both Solstice and Feyre's birthday.

Azriel did enjoy watching the light and life, but five gatherings in five days took its toll.

With a heavy sigh he picked up a garbage sack and began on the dining and cooking areas. It would be easy to unleash a blast of power from his siphons to mist the garbage, but be needed the catharsis of setting the house right again bit by bit.

First, he cleared off every crumb of food or half-eaten cookie in sight. Next, he set aside anything that could be nibbled on for breakfast before his return to Velaris (which amounted to a plate of cheese and some gingerbread cookies). In the sitting area he cleared all the trash with the aid of another three bags, then it was the ruins of the buffet table, and finally wisps of trash in the guest bathroom.

With the trash taken care of, there was finally space to move the dishes into the kitchen to be washed. Azriel heated the water as much as he could stand and set to work. Already he was feeling better. Methodical, tedious, repetitious- it was similar to his nearly ritualistic cleaning of his interrogation rooms after a chat with Rhys' enemies.

Azriel heard the door open and close- then the soft padding of bare feet on rug from the hall, but he wasn't concerned that she would put herself to work. She understood how draining it was to be social-to-death, and she knew him well enough to leave the cleaning to him. Azriel was a big boy, he would ask for help if he wanted it.

Azriel stopped four times to dry the dishes building up in the drainboard, but even so he made quick work of his task. When he finally ran out of things to do and realized there was nothing left to tidy up, he smiled. The next two days of feasting and celebrations would be back in Velaris with his family, and he was looking forward to seeing everyone's reactions as they opened their Solstice (and birthday) gifts this year.

The mind-numbing task of washing the dishes gave Azriel the chance to remember his excitement and clear the exhaustion from his bones.

He heard a fire being lit in the parlor hearth, so Azriel set to making twin mugs of coffee with slivers of chocolate melted in. A plate of slightly stale poppy-seed crackers accompanied the drinks onto a platter- they were the only thing he had left in his kitchen not holiday-themed.

"Feel better?" Nuala tipped her head back and smiled as Azriel came around the couch. An over-sized blue robe was the only thing between her ebony skin and the sofa, and she'd already opened it wide to feel the heat of the fireplace.

"How could I not?" he smiled as he handed Nuala her mug. She pulled her arms from the sleeves of the robe and scooted over so that Azriel could sit beside her. "What about you? You must be exhausted."

Nuala was Azriel's most beloved secret, and as such she hadn't spent the evening at his party. Instead she was helping over at Feyre and Rhysand's estate where the High Lady was hosting a Solstice celebration for her art students.

"Promise me that after Solstice there won't be any parties for a month," Nuala sighed.

"Two months," Azriel clinked his mug against hers. They were both set to stand in the Night Court retinue for the after-mating wedding of Thesan and his Captain of the Guard. Other than an orgy in Day Azriel had no interest in attending, he knew of no other events.

Nuala took Azriel's mug from his hand and he obediently removed his shirt before she returned it. She scooted forward while he stretched out his wings before leaning back to nuzzle against his shoulder. He wrapped an arm around her naked torso, and curved his wing to capture some of the fire's heat and direct it towards her icy skin. It was a simple comfort- to bask in the warmth of the fireplace with his love by his side and a mug of cocoa-coffee in his hand.

"You have to leave by nine to make it to Velaris for lunch," Nuala mused as she sipped her drink and listened to the fire crackle.

"I know."

"I have to gather reports from the Court of Nightmares at six in the morning."

"I know that too," Azriel raised an eyebrow and peered down at Nuala. His eyes drank in her breasts and he shifted the arm around her shoulders so that he could brush his thumb across the soft curve of one.

"We're completely alone," she murmured the words against his neck.

"I'm aware."

"Then take the damn hint," Nuala growled.

"What hint?" Azriel teased. He innocently stretched- and when he settled one leg was over hers, "We're just discussing our holiday schedules."

Nuala grinned as he tightened the grip his leg had on her thigh, pulling her open slightly.

"You assume a lot," Azriel nuzzled the top of Nuala's head as his free hand traced lightly across her throat. When she closed her eyes and waited for him to kiss her he hesitated, then flashed a wicked smile, "Don't just hint. Take."

"Okay," her voice was slightly breathless as she huffed a laugh, "then- kiss me."

"That's more like it."

"Make it good," she added.

Azriel was smiling as his lips brushed against hers. The first kiss was chaste, light. Azriel's fingers traced her collarbone. He was still smiling as he kissed her again with a hint of the passion he intended to unleash. Nuala shivered in the fire's heat as she felt his tongue flick across the seam of her lips, but he didn't take the offer when she parted them for him.

Instead, Azriel drifted away from Nuala's mouth, disobeying her instructions already. His soft lips never left her skin as he traced along the edge of her jaw to the delicate curve of her neck. Azriel breathed in the misty scent of her skin, growing drunk on the perfume of it.

His hand found its way to her breast, though it took Nuala a while to notice. Azriel's mouth against her neck made her heart race and her breath hitch. Blush crept across her cheeks and stained her chest. She'd told him to make his kiss good, he was doing his very best to exceed expectations.

Nuala moaned as he gently rolled a peaked nipple between two fingers. Her thighs clenched and she panted when his tongue found its way up along the column of her throat. Azriel nipped at her jaw before claiming her mouth once more.

She grabbed the hand on her breast and pushed it down her torso towards the apex of her thighs. Azriel didn't move, waiting to see what precisely she wanted. She broke the kiss with a shuddering breath and both of them looked down to where his hand was poised and waiting. Nuala shifted her legs apart then stretched her hand out across the back of his.

Slowly, she pushed one of his fingers down until it parted her folds. Azriel took the command and gently stroked as they both watched. Nuala shivered against him and closed her eyes. One hand pushed her head back while the other positioned over her mound. At the same moment, Azriel latched back onto her neck and plunged his finger deep into her.

Nuala jumped and her grip on his hand tightened. Azriel kept his pace slow and measured, enjoying the whimpers and small moans that escaped her lips. She rolled her hips, grinding against the hand that kept moving even as Azriel loosed a breathy laugh.

"Was the kiss good?"

"Um-huh," Nuala bit her lip at the sweet sensation building inside of her.

"What should I do now?"

"Exactly what you're doing," she turned her head to rest her forehead against his. Azriel's was already watching her when she opened her eyes and met his heavily lidded gaze.

He just grinned and slid a second finger in.

It wasn't fair. Azriel always teased and taunted Nuala. She wanted to play with him for a change- so even as she closed her eyes again and enjoyed the wondrous feeling of his palm rocking against her knot and his fingers moving inside her, she took the hand that had been holding his in place and undid the stays of his pants.

With a bit of maneuvering (and a helpful scoot from Azriel) she pulled his member free from it's prison and stroked him in time with the pulse of his fingers. He cursed soundly when she flicked the pad of her thumb across the head, and again when her nails lightly scraped along the underside of his shaft.

He was already hard when she pulled him free of his pants, but Azriel still responded to her attentions. Usually he monitored her and slowed his pace whenever he felt she was too close to release. This time though he was giving her full command, so he just enjoyed the hand that stroked him.

Nuala's breath hitched as the wave began to grow. Her grip on Azriel's iron length tightened. He wanted to give in to his own desires and take the first steps towards release, but Azriel was exhausted from the party. He had only one in him, so he would save it even if it drove him mad.

She was so soft and warm inside, it was an effort to keep moving his hand and resist pouncing on her. The scent of her arousal was thick as any pine and cinnamon scent in the air, and the way the firelight illuminated her body-

"Slow down," Azriel's whisper was a broken plea. He couldn't do it, couldn't last if she continued on looking like that.

She opened her eyes and grinned viciously, "I win?" A hand pushed Azriel's out from between her legs.

"I didn't know we were competing… but yes, you win," his laugh was breathless. He was panting harder than she was, and beads of precum dripped from the head of his member. If she went on for much longer he was going to be a shivering mess.

Nuala tapped his pants, "Take these off."

"What kind of position are you wanting?" Azriel asked as he unlaced his shoes and pulled his pants and underwear off in one motion. He wasn't sure if he should move from where he was seated.

"You're fine exactly where you are," as soon as his pants were off she climbed across him to straddle his hips. He let her take his length in hand and guide it to her entrance.

Now for his favorite part of their joinings- Nuala bit her lip and groaned as she pushed herself down onto him. Her breath hitched and her body tensed as she stretched to accommodate the sheer size of him. He was panting and tense as well, but he loved to watch her in those first moments before her body adjusted to him.

Nuala's toes were curled when she finally settled against his lap. She was as full as she could comfortably be, and she smiled as he grabbed her chin and began to kiss her once more.

"Once I've come, you can do whatever you want," she murmured against his lips. Nuala was as tired as her lover, and while she didn't mind if he continued to play with her once she'd climaxed, she couldn't muster the energy to participate.

Azriel laughed, "I've only got one in me as well."

She leaned back and raised an eyebrow, "Well in that case when we're done I hereby command you to carry me upstairs and bathe us both."

"As you wish," he purred.

Nuala rested her hands on Azriel's chest and rolled her hips, shifting him inside her. Her toes curled at the wondrous sensation and a warm shiver licked her spine.

Azriel's arms wrapped around her, holding her against him as she began to move in earnest, rising and falling enough to take advantage of the delicious friction without having to leave his embrace. Nuala dipped down and kissed him again. Her hands found their way into Azriel's hair, and she held his head in place, lest he try to lavish more attention on her neck.

She wanted to come with his mouth against hers where she could feel every sharp inhale and enjoy his desperate moans. Hearing someone as disciplined as Azriel lose control made her blood boil and her core pulse with need. A broad hand slid down to her hip, helping to lift her as she rode him.

Nuala felt the need between her legs turn into something sharp-edged and all consuming. She was forced to end the kiss with Azriel, but their lips just barely touched as they panted for breath together. He was as close as she was, and Nuala could feel him shaking with the effort to resist his release. He was doing it for her sake, to give her a chance to finish first.

"Almost," she moaned against his mouth. Azriel responded by slamming his hips up into her against the rhythm she'd set, interrupting her control. Nuala cried out and by his third thrust, he felt her walls clamp down on him as her muscles went tight and loose at the same time.

She cried out his name as he let his own control slip and began to spill himself inside of her. Azriel never stopped moving, drawing out her climax and his as long as possible. His heat mixed with hers as Nuala's hands dug into his hair and chest, holding him tight as her world exploded.

Azriel was done before her, so he slid a hand between their bodes and whipped at Nuala's knot until her body began to shake and she suddenly pushed back from him, breaking their contact. He slid from her in the motion and Nuala laughed, even as she twitched with phantom bolts of pleasure, "Good boy."

"I always try my best," he crawled the length of her body and kissed her again. Nuala's arms wrapped around his neck and he managed to work two arms beneath her torso before sitting up, dragging her along with him.

"Bath time?"

"Bath time, as my lady commanded," Azriel stood with Nuala in his arms and laughed as she wrapped her legs around his hips. He held her tight as he carried her to the master bedroom to bathe.

Nuala was asleep in his arms by the time he reached the bathroom, and she didn't wake as he filled the tub and lowered her in. Azriel washed them both, smiling to himself all the while at the beautiful creature beside him.

"I love you," Nuala murmured after Azriel carried her from the bathroom again, toweled dry and uncharacteristically warm from the bath.

"I love you too," he kissed her forehead and set her down in her place on the bed. Once Azriel was tucked into her back with an arm around her torso, he pulled up the comforter and breathed in the scent of her hair once again.

In that moment Azriel decided it didn't matter how many parties they had to endure or how many armies of people marched through the home during the festivities, he could survive it all on just the scent of his love's hair and the warmth (or coldness) of her body beside him.

He couldn't imagine a more perfect life than the one fate had blessed him with.

Azriel smiled as he drifted off to sleep with the only gift he could ever wish for already wrapped in his arms.


	9. Rowaelin Edition

**Rowaelin Edition**

Long after the festivities were over and guests had drifted away, Rowan found himself wandering through the wreckage of his and Aelin's not-so-secret second home.

Scraps of wrapping paper and torn ribbons festooned the entryway, parlor, and back halls. Dishes covered in scraps of food were piled high on every available surface. Rowan's ears still bled with the roaring of endless banter- much of it his own as he chatted idly with friends.

In all over a hundred people trickled through the Orynth estate for some early Yulemas celebrations- most of them castle servants.

He and Aelin had prepared small gifts for everyone, mountains of holiday sweets, gallons of hot cocoa, and what felt like an entire farm's worth of roast meat, potatoes, and vegetables. The sheer quantity of food was stunning to behold as they set up, but it was still barely enough. Just four coin purses containing a yearly bonus remained- each neatly labeled for someone who hadn't made it to the party.

Two days before Yulemas, and Rowan had already survived his third party. The first was an early feast in Orynth to formally mark the holiday with their friends in Adarlan, the first anniversary of Maeve and Erawan's defeat, and the unveiling of the monument to the Thirteen who Yielded. On its heels came a more informal gathering of the Cadre, Aedion, and Aelin to commemorate Gavriel's sacrifice (and get blasted drunk), and then finally this party- somehow louder and more chaotic than any that preceded it. The next day Lysandra was bringing Elide and Lorcan in from Perranth for two days of merrymaking (and more drinking) before heavenly quiet returned.

Rowan loved the light and life, but five gatherings in a week took its toll.

Even though he knew the morning servants would clean up the mess, Rowan picked up a trash bag and began in the kitchen. It would be easy to go upstairs and relax, but he wanted to do something with his own two hands. He wanted to earn it- to feel a sense of accomplishment and surprise the servants with an easier day than they were expecting.

Aelin was upstairs soaking in a candlelit bath, for Rowan the same easing of stress and strain would come from a job well done (and maybe a bath of his own later).

First, he cleared off every crumb of food or half-eaten cookie. Next, he set aside anything they might still nibble at the next day (which amounted to a plate of cheese and a few gingerbread cookies). In the parlor, he cleared all the trash with the aid of another three bags, then it was the ruins of the buffet in the dining room, and finally wisps of debris in the entrance and guest bathrooms.

With the trash taken care of, there was finally space to move dishes into the kitchen to be washed. Already he was feeling better. Methodical, tedious, repetitious- it was like training without the threat of broken bones.

He could hear Aelin come downstairs and head for the parlor, but he wasn't concerned she would start helping. She knew what it felt like to be social-to-death, and there was no mess in the parlor left for her to clean. Aelin merely kindled the fireplace, straightened up a couple of decorations, and reclined on a low couch.

Rowan stopped four times to do the dishes building up in the drainboard, but even so he made quick work of his task. When he finally ran out of things to do and realized there was nothing left to tidy up, he smiled. The next two days of feasting and celebrations would be with friends rather than near-strangers, and he was actually looking forward to everyone's faces as they opened their Yulemas gifts this year.

He smiled as he busied himself making twin mugs of coffee with slivers of chocolate melted in. A plate of slightly stale poppy-seed crackers (the only thing in the kitchen not holiday themed) accompanied the drinks onto a silver tray.

"Feel better?" Aelin tipped her head back and smiled as Rowan entered the room. An over-sized gold robe was the only thing between her and the couch, and she'd already opened it to feel the heat of the fireplace on her bare skin.

"How could I not with a view like that?" Rowan winked and handed Aelin her mug. She pulled her arms free of the sleeves of the robe and scooted over so that Rowan could sit beside her. "What about you? Feeling better?"

Aelin sighed, "Promise me that after the next party we won't have any celebrations for a month."

"Four months," Rowan clinked his mug against Aelin's, "But then we have to celebrate Josefin's birthday and you know that will be an Erilea-wide event."

"As it should be," Yrene had saved all of their lives while Josefin was growing inside her, they both deserved to be canonized as far as Aelin was concerned. "Is Josefin too young for throwing knives?"

"A year old? Yeah, just a bit too young," Rowan snorted.

"When she's three I'm having ankle-blades made for her."

"And when she's fifteen I'll give her the key to the lock-box I'm going to put those in."

"Deal," Aelin took Rowan's mug from him and he obediently removed his shirt before she returned it. Bargain struck, she nuzzled into his shoulder as he wrapped an arm around her naked torso and pulled her against his side. A simple comfort- to bask in the warmth of the fireplace with his mate in his arms and a mug of cocoa-coffee in his hand.

"The servants won't arrive until late tomorrow morning," Aelin mused as she sipped her drink and listened to the fire crackle.

"I know."

"Elide and Lorcan won't be here until early afternoon."

"I know that too," Rowan raised an eyebrow and peered down at Aelin. His eyes drank in her breasts and he shifted the arm around her shoulders so that he could brush his thumb across the soft curve of one.

"We're completely alone," she murmured the words against his neck.

"I'm aware."

"Then take the damn hint," Aelin growled.

"What hint?" Rowan teased. He innocently stretched- and when he settled one leg was over hers, "We're just discussing our holiday schedules."

Aelin grinned as he tightened the grip his leg had on her thigh, pulling her open slightly.

"You assume a lot," Rowan nuzzled the top of Aelin's head as his free hand lightly traced her throat. When she closed her eyes and waited for him to kiss her he hesitated, then flashed a wicked smile, "Don't just hint. Take."

"Okay," her voice was slightly breathless as she huffed a laugh, "then- kiss me."

"That's more like it."

"Make it good," she added.

Rowan was smiling as his lips brushed against hers. The first kiss was chaste, light. Rowan's fingers traced her collarbone. He was still smiling as he kissed her again with a hint of the passion he intended to unleash. Aelin shivered in the fire's heat as she felt his tongue flick across the seam of her lips, but he didn't take the offer when she parted them for him.

Instead, Rowan drifted away from Aelin's mouth, disobeying her instructions already. His soft lips never left her skin as he traced along the edge of her jaw to the delicate curve of her neck. Rowan breathed in the crackling scent of her skin, growing drunk on the perfume of it.

His hand found its way to her breast, though it took Aelin a while to notice. Rowan's mouth against her neck made her heart race and her breath hitch. Blush crept across her cheeks and stained her chest. She'd told him to make his kiss good, he was doing his very best to exceed expectations.

Aelin moaned as he gently rolled a peaked nipple between two fingers. Her thighs clenched and she panted when his tongue found its way up along the column of her throat. Rowan nipped at her jaw before claiming her mouth once more.

She grabbed the hand on her breast and pushed it down her torso towards the apex of her thighs. Rowan didn't move, waiting to see what precisely she wanted. She broke the kiss with a shuddering breath and both of them looked down to where his hand was poised and waiting. Aelin shifted her legs apart then stretched her hand out across the back of his.

Slowly, she pushed one of his fingers down until it parted her folds. Rowan took the command and gently stroked as they both watched. Aelin shivered against him and closed her eyes. One hand pushed her head back while the other positioned over her mound. At the same moment, Rowan latched back onto her neck and plunged his finger deep into her.

Aelin jumped and her grip on his hand tightened. Rowan kept his pace slow and measured, enjoying the whimpers and small moans that escaped her lips. She rolled her hips, grinding against the hand that kept moving even as Rowan loosed a breathy laugh.

"Was the kiss good?"

"Um-huh," Aelin bit her lip at the sweet sensation building inside of her.

"What should I do now?"

"Exactly what you're doing," she turned her head to rest her forehead against his. Rowan's was already watching her when she opened her eyes and met his heavily lidded gaze.

He just grinned and slid a second finger in.

It wasn't fair. Rowan always teased and taunted Aelin. She wanted to play with him for a change- so even as she closed her eyes again and enjoyed the wondrous feeling of his palm rocking against her knot and his fingers moving inside her, she took the hand that had been holding his in place and undid the stays of his pants.

With a bit of maneuvering (and a helpful scoot from Rowan) she pulled his member free from it's prison and stroked him in time with the pulse of his fingers. He cursed soundly when she flicked the pad of her thumb across the head, and again when her nails lightly scraped along the underside of his shaft.

He was already hard when she pulled him free of his pants, but Rowan still responded to her attentions. Usually he monitored her and slowed his pace whenever he felt she was too close to release. This time though he was giving her full command, so he just enjoyed the hand that stroked him.

Aelin's breath hitched as the wave began to grow. Her grip on Rowan's iron length tightened. He wanted to give in to his own desires and take the first steps towards release, but Rowan was exhausted from the party. He had only one in him, so he would save it even if it drove him mad.

She was so soft and warm inside, it was an effort to keep moving his hand and resist pouncing on her. The scent of her arousal was thick as any pine and cinnamon scent in the air, and the way the firelight illuminated her body-

"Slow down," Rowan's whisper was a broken plea. He couldn't do it, couldn't last if she continued on looking like that.

She opened her eyes and grinned viciously, "I win?" A hand pushed Rowan's out from between her legs.

"I didn't know we were competing… but yes, you win," his laugh was breathless. He was panting harder than she was, and beads of precum dripped from the head of his member. If she went on for much longer he was going to be a shivering mess.

Aelin tapped his pants, "Take these off."

"What kind of position are you wanting?" Rowan asked as he unlaced his shoes and pulled his pants and underwear off in one motion. He wasn't sure if he should move from where he was seated.

"You're fine exactly where you are," as soon as his pants were off she climbed across him to straddle his hips. He let her take his length in hand and guide it to her entrance.

Now for his favorite part of their joinings- Aelin bit her lip and groaned as she pushed herself down onto him. Her breath hitched and her body tensed as she stretched to accommodate the sheer size of him. He was panting and tense as well, but he loved to watch her in those first moments before her body adjusted to him.

Aelin's toes were curled when she finally settled against his lap. She was as full as she could comfortably be, and she smiled as he grabbed her chin and began to kiss her once more.

"Once I've come, you can do whatever you want," she murmured against his lips. Aelin was as tired as her mate, and while she didn't mind if he continued to play with her once she'd climaxed, she couldn't muster the energy to participate.

Rowan laughed, "I've only got one in me as well."

She leaned back and raised an eyebrow, "Well in that case when we're done I hereby command you to carry me upstairs and bathe us both."

"As you wish," he purred.

Aelin rested her hands on Rowan's chest and rolled her hips, shifting him inside her. Her toes curled at the wondrous sensation and a warm shiver licked her spine.

Rowan's arms wrapped around her, holding her against him as she began to move in earnest, rising and falling enough to take advantage of the delicious friction without having to leave his embrace. Aelin dipped down and kissed him again. Her hands found their way into Rowan's hair, and she held his head in place, lest he try to lavish more attention on her neck.

She wanted to come with his mouth against hers where she could feel every sharp inhale and enjoy his desperate moans. Hearing someone as disciplined as Rowan lose control made her blood boil and her core pulse with need. A broad hand slid down to her hip, helping to lift her as she rode him.

Aelin felt the need between her legs turn into something sharp-edged and all consuming. She was forced to end the kiss with Rowan, but their lips just barely touched as they panted for breath together. He was as close as she was, and Aelin could feel him shaking with the effort to resist his release. He was doing it for her sake, to give her a chance to finish first.

"Almost," she moaned against his mouth. Rowan responded by slamming his hips up into her against the rhythm she'd set, interrupting her control. Aelin cried out and by his third thrust, he felt her walls clamp down on him as her muscles went tight and loose at the same time.

She cried out his name as he let his own control slip and began to spill himself inside of her. Rowan never stopped moving, drawing out her climax and his as long as possible. His heat mixed with hers as Aelin's hands dug into his hair and chest, holding him tight as her world exploded.

Rowan was done before her, so he slid a hand between their bodes and whipped at Aelin's knot until her body began to shake and she suddenly pushed back from him, breaking their contact. He slid from her in the motion and Aelin laughed, even as she twitched with phantom bolts of pleasure, "Good boy."

"I always try my best," he crawled the length of her body and kissed her again. Aelin's arms wrapped around his neck and he managed to work two arms beneath her torso before sitting up, dragging her along with him.

"Bath time?"

"Bath time, as my lady commanded," Rowan stood with Aelin in his arms and laughed as she wrapped her legs around his hips. He held her tight as he carried her to the master bedroom to bathe.

Aelin was asleep in his arms by the time he reached the bathroom, and she didn't wake as he filled the tub and lowered her in. Rowan washed them both, smiling to himself all the while at the beautiful creature beside him.

"I love you," Aelin murmured after Rowan carried her from the bathroom again, toweled dry and uncharacteristically warm from the bath.

"I love you too," he kissed her forehead and set her down in her place on the bed. Once Rowan was tucked into her back with an arm around her torso, he pulled up the comforter and breathed in the scent of her hair once again.

In that moment Rowan decided it didn't matter how many parties they had to endure or how many armies of people marched through the home during the festivities, he could survive it all on just the scent of his mate's hair and the warmth of her body beside him.

He couldn't imagine a more perfect life than the one fate had blessed him with.

Rowan smiled as he drifted off to sleep with the only gift he could ever wish for already wrapped in his arms.


	10. Amrian Edition

**Amrian Edition**

Long after the festivities were over and the guests had drifted back to their own homes, Varian found himself wandering through the wreckage of his private estate in Adriata.

Scraps of wrapping paper and torn ribbons festooned the entryway, parlor, and back halls. Dishes covered in scraps of food were piled high on every available surface. Varian's ears still bled with the roaring din of endless noise- much of it his own as he chatted with his subordinates.

In all over a hundred fae trickled through the manor for some early Solstice celebrations- mostly guards and their families. He had prepared small gifts for everyone, mountains of holiday sweets, gallons of hot cocoa, and what felt like an entire farm's worth of roast meat, potatoes, and vegetables. The sheer quantity was stunning to behold as they set up, but it was still barely enough. Just four small wrapped parcels remained in the entryway- each neatly labeled for a guard who hadn't come that night.

Two days before Solstice, and Varian had already survived his third party. The first was an early feast in Winter as Kallias formally swore Viviane in as High Lady before thousands of witnesses. On its heels came a more informal gathering of High Lords and Ladies in Day with Helion, then finally this party- somehow louder and more chaotic than either that preceded it. The next day he would leave with Amren to spend two days of merrymaking (and drinking) in Velaris before heavenly quiet returned.

Varian loved the light and life, but five gatherings in five days took its toll.

With a wave of his hand, Varian conjured a garbage sack and began in the kitchen. An insignificant pulse of magic could easily take care of every scrap of mess in a second, but he didn't want it to be clean so quickly. He wanted to earn it, to feel a sense of accomplishment.

First, he cleared off every crumb of food or half-eaten cookie. Next, he set aside anything he might still nibble at the next day (which amounted to a plate of cheese slices and a few gingerbread cookies). In the parlor, he cleared all the trash with the aid of another three bags, then it was the ruins of the buffet in the dining room, and finally wisps of debris in the entrance, yard, and guest bathrooms.

With the trash taken care of, there was finally space to move dishes into the kitchen to be washed.

The housekeeping spells embedded in the home pushed at him as it tried to take over the chores, but Varian pushed right back. Already he was feeling better. Methodical, tedious, repetitious- it was like training without the threat of broken bones.

Varian heard the door open and close- then the soft padding of bare feet on rug from the hallway. He wasn't concerned that she would put herself to work- it wasn't in her nature, and he didn't mind one bit.

Varian stopped four times to dry the dishes building up in the drainboard, but even so he made quick work of his task. When he finally ran out of things to do and realized there was nothing to tidy up, he smiled. The next two days of feasting and celebrations would be in Velaris with his new friends, and he looked forward to seeing everyone's reactions as they opened their Solstice gifts. It was only his second with the Inner Circle, but their warmth and cheer was infectious.

The mind-numbing task of washing the dishes gave Varian the chance to remember his excitement and clear the exhaustion from his bones.

He heard a fire being lit in the hearth, so Varian set to making twin mugs of coffee with slivers of chocolate melted in. A plate of slightly stale poppy-seed crackers accompanied the drinks onto a platter- they were the only thing he had left in his kitchen not holiday-themed.

"Feel better?" Amren tipped her head back and offered a grin as Varian came around the couch. An over-sized white-fur robe was the only thing between her pale skin and the sofa, and she'd already opened it wide to bask in the heat of the fireplace.

"How could I not?" He smiled as he handed Amren her mug. She pulled her arms from the sleeves of the robe and scooted over so that Varian could sit beside her. "What about you? You must be exhausted."

"Promise me that after Solstice there won't be any parties for a month."

"Two months," Amren clinked her mug against his. They were both set to stand in the retinues for their respective courts for the marriage of Thesan to his Captain of the Guard at the end of winter.

Amren took Varian's mug from his hand and he obediently removed his shirt before she returned it. She nuzzled against his shoulder- a display of gentle warmth none but him had ever seen. He wrapped his arm around her naked torso and smiled. It was a simple comfort- to bask in the warmth of a winter night's fire with his lover by his side and a mug of cocoa-coffee in his hand.

"We have to leave at nine tomorrow for Velaris," Varian mused as he sipped his drink and listened to the fire crackle.

"I know."

"I have to gather another round of reports from my lieutenant at six in the morning."

"I know that too," Amren raised an eyebrow and peered up at Varian.

His eyes drank in her breasts and he shifted the arm around her shoulders so that he could brush his thumb across the soft curve of one.

"We're completely alone," he lowered his head to murmur the words against her neck.

"I'm aware," she grinned dangerously. "Use your words like a grown little Lordling."

"Take the damn hint," he countered.

"What hint?" Amren teased. She innocently stretched and draped one leg over his, "You're just blabbering about your schedule."

Varian grinned as she shifted her hips, opening herself up slightly for his gaze.

"You assume a lot," Amren said in response to his look. His free hand came up to lightly trace across her throat. When he closed his eyes and waited for her to kiss him she hesitated, then flashed a wicked smile, "How many times have I told you? Don't hint- take."

"Okay," his voice was slightly breathless as he huffed a laugh, "then- kiss me."

"That's more like it."

"Make it good," he added.

Varian was smiling as her lips brushed against his. The first kiss was chaste, light. Varian's fingers traced against her collarbone. He was still smiling as she kissed him again with a hint of the passion he hoped she would unleash. Varian shivered in the fire's heat as he felt her tongue flick across the seam of her lips, but she didn't take the opportunity when he parted them for her.

Instead, Amren drifted away from Varian's mouth, disobeying his instruction already. Her soft lips never left his skin as she traced along the edge of his jaw to the delicate curve of her neck. Amren breathed in the sharp, earthy scent of his skin.

Amren's hand found its way to Varian's chest, though it took a moment to even realize he'd moved. Amren's mouth against his neck made his heart race and his breath hitch. Blush crept across his cheeks and stained his chest. He'd told her to make the kiss good and she was doing her very best to exceed expectations.

Varian moaned as Amren gently rolled one of his nipples between two fingers. His thighs clenched and he panted when her tongue found its way up along the column of his throat. Amren nipped at his jaw before claiming his mouth once more.

Amren grabbed Varian's hand and pushed it down her torso towards the apex of her thighs

Varian didn't move, waiting to see what precisely she wanted. She broke the kiss with a shuddering breath and both of them looked down to where his hand was poised and waiting. Amren shifted her legs apart then stretched her hand out across the back of his.

Slowly, she pushed one of his fingers down until it parted her folds. Varian took the command and gently stroked as they both watched. Amren shivered against him and closed her eyes. One hand pushed her head back while the other positioned over her mound. At the same moment, Varian latched back onto her neck and plunged his finger deep into her.

Amren jumped and her grip on his hand tightened. Varian kept his pace slow and measured, enjoying the whimpers and small moans that escaped her lips. She rolled her hips, grinding against the hand that kept moving even as Varian loosed a breathy laugh.

"Was the kiss good?"

"Um-huh," Amren bit her lip at the sweet sensation building inside of her.

"What should I do now?"

"Exactly what you're doing," she turned her head to rest her forehead against his. Varian's was already watching her when she opened her eyes and met his heavily lidded gaze.

He just grinned and slid a second finger in.

It wasn't fair. Varian always teased and taunted Amren. She wanted to play with him for a change- so even as she closed her eyes again and enjoyed the wondrous feeling of his palm rocking against her knot and his fingers moving inside her, she took the hand that had been holding his in place and undid the stays of his pants.

With a bit of maneuvering (and a helpful scoot from Varian) she pulled his member free from it's prison and stroked him in time with the pulse of his fingers. He cursed soundly when she flicked the pad of her thumb across the head, and again when her nails lightly scraped along the underside of his shaft.

He was already hard when she pulled him free of his pants, but Varian still responded to her attentions. Usually he monitored her and slowed his pace whenever he felt she was too close to release. This time though he was giving her full command, so he just enjoyed the hand that stroked him.

Amren's breath hitched as the wave began to grow. Her grip on Varian's iron length tightened. He wanted to give in to his own desires and take the first steps towards release, but Varian was exhausted from the party. He had only one in him, so he would save it even if it drove him mad.

She was so soft and warm inside, it was an effort to keep moving his hand and resist pouncing on her. The scent of her arousal was thick as any pine and cinnamon scent in the air, and the way the firelight illuminated her body-

"Slow down," Varian's whisper was a broken plea. He couldn't do it, couldn't last if she continued on looking like that.

She opened her eyes and grinned viciously, "I win?" A hand pushed Varian's out from between her legs.

"I didn't know we were competing… but yes, you win," his laugh was breathless. He was panting harder than she was, and beads of precum dripped from the head of his member. If she went on for much longer he was going to be a shivering mess.

Amren tapped his pants, "Take these off."

"What kind of position are you wanting?" Varian asked as he unlaced his shoes and pulled his pants and underwear off in one motion. He wasn't sure if he should move from where he was seated.

"You're fine exactly where you are," as soon as his pants were off she climbed across him to straddle his hips. He let her take his length in hand and guide it to her entrance.

Now for his favorite part of their joinings- Amren bit her lip and groaned as she pushed herself down onto him. Her breath hitched and her body tensed as she stretched to accommodate the sheer size of him. He was panting and tense as well, but he loved to watch her in those first moments before her body adjusted to him.

Amren's toes were curled when she finally settled against his lap. She was as full as she could comfortably be, and she smiled as he grabbed her chin and began to kiss her once more.

"Once I've come, you can do whatever you want," she murmured against his lips. Amren was as tired as her lover, and while she didn't mind if he continued to play with her once she'd climaxed, she couldn't muster the energy to participate.

Varian laughed, "I've only got one in me as well."

She leaned back and raised an eyebrow, "Well in that case when we're done I hereby command you to carry me upstairs and bathe us both."

"As you wish," he purred.

Amren rested her hands on Varian's chest and rolled her hips, shifting him inside her. Her toes curled at the wondrous sensation and a warm shiver licked her spine.

Varian's arms wrapped around her, holding her against him as she began to move in earnest, rising and falling enough to take advantage of the delicious friction without having to leave his embrace. Amren dipped down and kissed him again. She took Varian's head in her hands and held it in place, lest he try to lavish more attention on her neck.

She wanted to come with his mouth against hers where she could feel every sharp inhale and enjoy his desperate moans. Hearing someone as disciplined as Varian lose control made her blood boil and her core pulse with need. A broad hand slid down to her hip, helping to lift her as she rode him.

Amren felt the need between her legs turn into something sharp-edged and all consuming. She was forced to end the kiss with Varian, but their lips just barely touched as they panted for breath together. He was as close as she was, and Amren could feel him shaking with the effort to resist his release. He was doing it for her sake, to give her a chance to finish first.

"Almost," she moaned against his mouth. Varian responded by slamming his hips up into her against the rhythm she'd set, interrupting her control. Amren cried out and by his third thrust, he felt her walls clamp down on him as her muscles went tight and loose at the same time.

She cried out his name as he let his own control slip and began to spill himself inside of her. Varian never stopped moving, drawing out her climax and his as long as possible. His heat mixed with hers as Amren's hands dug into his hair and chest, holding him tight as her world exploded.

Varian was done before her, so he slid a hand between their bodes and whipped at Amren's knot until her body began to shake and she suddenly pushed back from him, breaking their contact. He slid from her in the motion and Amren laughed, even as she twitched with phantom bolts of pleasure, "Good boy."

"I always try my best," he crawled the length of her body and kissed her again. Amren's arms wrapped around his neck and he managed to work two arms beneath her torso before sitting up, dragging her along with him.

"Bath time?"

"Bath time, as my lady commanded," Varian stood with Amren in his arms and laughed as she wrapped her legs around his hips. He held her tight as he carried her to the master bedroom to bathe.

Amren was asleep in his arms by the time he reached the bathroom, and she didn't wake as he filled the tub and lowered her in. Varian washed them both, smiling to himself all the while at the beautiful creature beside him.

"I love you," Amren murmured after Varian carried her from the bathroom again, toweled dry and warm.

"I love you too," he kissed her forehead and set her down in her place on the bed. Once Varian was tucked into her back with an arm around her torso, he pulled up the comforter and breathed in the scent of her hair once again.

In that moment Varian decided it didn't matter how many parties he had to endure or how many armies of people marched through the home during the festivities, he could survive it all on just the scent of his love's hair and the warmth of her body beside him.

He couldn't imagine a more perfect life than the one fate had blessed him with.

Varian smiled as he drifted off to sleep with the only gift he could ever wish for already wrapped in his arms.


	11. Nesraq Edition

**Nesraq Edition**

Long after the festivities were over and the guests had drifted away, Sartaq found himself wandering through the wreckage of the Rifthold Embassy.

Scraps of wrapping paper and torn ribbons festooned the entryway, parlor, and back halls. Dishes covered in scraps of food were piled high on every available surface. Sartaq's ears still bled with the roaring of endless banter- much of it his own as he chatted idly with his guests.

He and Nesryn had prepared gifts for everyone, mountains of holiday sweets, gallons of hot cocoa, and what felt like an entire farm's worth of roast meat, potatoes, and vegetables. The sheer quantity of food was stunning to behold as they set up, but it was still barely enough. Just four small bundles of the best kahve beans the Continent had to offer remained in the entryway- each neatly labeled for a member of the embassy staff who wasn't there that night.

Two days before Yulemas- a holiday they didn't celebrate in the Southern Continent- and Sartaq had already survived his fourth party. The first was an early feast in Terrasen to mark altogether the holiday, the first anniversary of Maeve and Erawan's defeat, and the unveiling of a monument to the Thirteen who Yielded. On its heels came a more informal gathering in the Witch Kingdom, followed by a party at Manon and Dorian's estate in Rifthold, then finally this party- somehow louder and more chaotic than any that preceded it. The next day he and Nesryn would be formally welcomed to the castle as the guests of honor for two days of merrymaking (and drinking) before the future Khagan and his wife returned home.

Sartaq had booked a large ship for their crossing- one specially outfitted with perches for Kadara and Salkhi. The ruks had ferried them across Erilea for their various functions and deserved a nice rest.

As much as he loved the light and life, five gatherings in a week took its toll on everyone- not just their mounts.

Even though he knew the embassy staff would clean up the mess in the morning, Sartaq picked up a trash bag and began working through the kitchen. It would be easy to just go upstairs and rest, but he wanted to do something with his own two hands. He wanted to earn it, to feel a sense of accomplishment and surprise the staff with an easier day than they were expecting.

Nesryn was upstairs soaking in a candlelit bath, for him the same easing of stress would come from a job well done (and perhaps a bath of his own later). The future Khagan of the Southern Continent needed to do something with his hands.

First, he cleared off every crumb of food or half-eaten cookie. Next, he set aside anything they might still nibble at the next day (which amounted to a plate of cheese slices and a few gingerbread cookies). In the parlor, he cleared all trash with the aid of another there bags, then it was the ruins of the buffet in the dining room, and finally wisps of debris in the entrance, yard, and guest bathrooms.

With the trash taken care of, there was finally space to move dishes into the kitchen to be washed. Already he was feeling better. Methodical, tedious, repetitious- it was at least more enjoyable than diplomacy.

He could hear Nesryn moving about two rooms away, but he wasn't concerned. She understood what it felt like to be social-to-death, and there was no more mess in the parlor for her to clean. Nesryn merely kindled the fireplace, straightened up a couple of decorations, and reclined on a low couch.

Sartaq stopped four times to dry the dishes building up in the drainboard, but even so he made quick work of his task. When he finally ran out of things to do and realized there was nothing left to tidy up, he smiled. The next two days of feasting and celebrations would be with their friends, and he was looking forward to everyone's faces as they opened their Yulemas gifts this year.

The mind-numbing task had given his brain a chance to remember that excitement and clear the fuzz out of his head.

The Khagan-to-be busied himself making twin mugs of Kahve with slivers of chocolate melted in. A plate of slightly stale poppy-seed crackers accompanied the drinks- the only thing in the whole kitchen not holiday themed.

"Feel better?" Nesryn tipped her head back and smiled as Sartaq entered the room. An over-sized gold robe was the only thing between her and the couch, and she'd already opened it to feel the heat of the fireplace against her bare skin.

"How could I not?" Sartaq winked as he handed Nesryn her mug. She pulled her arms from the sleeves of the robe and scooted over so that Sartaq could sit beside her. "What about you? Feeling better?"

"Promise me that after Yulemas we won't have any parties for a month?"

"Four months," Sartaq clinked his mug against Nesryn's. "But then we have to come back and celebrate Josefin's birthday and that's going to be another big event."

"As it should be." Yrene had saved all of their lives while Josefin was growing inside her, they both deserved to be canonized as far as Nesryn was concerned.

"Is she too young to get a hunting bow?"

"A year old? Yeah, that's just a little bit too young," Nesryn laughed.

"When she's three she's getting a warhorse-" Sartaq caught the look on Nesryn's face and quickly added, "a baby one, of course."

"It had better be," Nesryn took Sartaq's mug from him and he obediently removed his shirt before she returned it. Bargain struck, she nuzzled into his shoulder as he wrapped an arm around her naked torso and pulled her against his side. A simple comfort- to bask in the warmth of the fireplace with his wife-to-be in his arms and a mug of coco-khave in his hand.

"The staff won't be here until late tomorrow morning," Nesryn mused as she sipped her drink and listened to the fire crackle.

"I know."

"Dorian isn't expecting us until early afternoon."

"I know that too," Sartaq raised an eyebrow and peered down at Nesryn. His eyes drank in her breasts and he shifted the arm around her shoulders so that he could brush his thumb across the soft curve of one.

"We're completely alone," she murmured against his neck.

"I'm aware."

"Then take the damn hint," Nesryn growled.

"What hint?" Sartaq teased. He innocently stretched- and when he settled one leg was over hers, "We're just discussing our holiday schedules."

Nesryn grinned as he tightened the grip his leg had on her thigh, pulling her open slightly.

"You assume a lot," Sartaq nuzzled the top of Nesryn's head as his free hand lightly traced her throat. When she closed her eyes and waited for him to kiss her he hesitated, then flashed a wicked smile, "Don't just hint. Take."

"Okay," her voice was slightly breathless as she huffed a laugh, "then- kiss me."

"That's more like it."

"Make it good," she added.

Sartaq was smiling as his lips brushed against hers. The first kiss was chaste, light. Sartaq's fingers traced her collarbone. He was still smiling as he kissed her again with a hint of the passion he intended to unleash. Nesryn shivered in the fire's heat as she felt his tongue flick across the seam of her lips, but he didn't take the offer when she parted them for him.

Instead, Sartaq drifted away from Nesryn's mouth, disobeying her instructions already. His soft lips never left her skin as he traced along the edge of her jaw to the delicate curve of her neck. Sartaq breathed in the crackling scent of her skin, growing drunk on the perfume of it.

His hand found its way to her breast, though it took Nesryn a while to notice. Sartaq's mouth against her neck made her heart race and her breath hitch. Blush crept across her cheeks and stained her chest. She'd told him to make his kiss good, he was doing his very best to exceed expectations.

Nesryn moaned as he gently rolled a peaked nipple between two fingers. Her thighs clenched and she panted when his tongue found its way up along the column of her throat. Sartaq nipped at her jaw before claiming her mouth once more.

She grabbed the hand on her breast and pushed it down her torso towards the apex of her thighs. Sartaq didn't move, waiting to see what precisely she wanted. She broke the kiss with a shuddering breath and both of them looked down to where his hand was poised and waiting. Nesryn shifted her legs apart then stretched her hand out across the back of his.

Slowly, she pushed one of his fingers down until it parted her folds. Sartaq took the command and gently stroked as they both watched. Nesryn shivered against him and closed her eyes. One hand pushed her head back while the other positioned over her mound. At the same moment, Sartaq latched back onto her neck and plunged his finger deep into her.

Nesryn jumped and her grip on his hand tightened. Sartaq kept his pace slow and measured, enjoying the whimpers and small moans that escaped her lips. She rolled her hips, grinding against the hand that kept moving even as Sartaq loosed a breathy laugh.

"Was the kiss good?"

"Um-huh," Nesryn bit her lip at the sweet sensation building inside of her.

"What should I do now?"

"Exactly what you're doing," she turned her head to rest her forehead against his. Sartaq was already watching her when she opened her eyes and met his heavily lidded gaze.

He just grinned and slid a second finger in.

It wasn't fair. Sartaq always teased and taunted Nesryn. She wanted to play with him for a change- so even as she closed her eyes again and enjoyed the wondrous feeling of his palm rocking against her knot and his fingers moving inside her, she took the hand that had been holding his in place and undid the stays of his pants.

With a bit of maneuvering (and a helpful scoot from Sartaq) she pulled his member free from it's prison and stroked him in time with the pulse of his fingers. He cursed soundly when she flicked the pad of her thumb across the head, and again when her nails lightly scraped along the underside of his shaft.

He was already hard when she pulled him free of his pants, but Sartaq still responded to her attentions. Usually he monitored her and slowed his pace whenever he felt she was too close to release. This time though he was giving her full command, so he just enjoyed the hand that stroked him.

Nesryn's breath hitched as the wave began to grow. Her grip on Sartaq's iron length tightened. He wanted to give in to his own desires and take the first steps towards release, but Sartaq was exhausted from the party. He had only one in him, so he would save it even if it drove him mad.

She was so soft and warm inside, it was an effort to keep moving his hand and resist pouncing on her. The scent of her arousal was thick as any pine and cinnamon scent in the air, and the way the firelight illuminated her body-

"Slow down," Sartaq's whisper was a broken plea. He couldn't do it, couldn't last if she continued on looking like that.

She opened her eyes and grinned viciously, "I win?" A hand pushed Sartaq's out from between her legs.

"I didn't know we were competing… but yes, you win," his laugh was breathless. He was panting harder than she was, and beads of precum dripped from the head of his member. If she went on for much longer he was going to be a shivering mess.

Nesryn tapped his pants, "Take these off."

"What kind of position are you wanting?" Sartaq asked as he unlaced his shoes and pulled his pants and underwear off in one motion. He wasn't sure if he should move from where he was seated.

"You're fine exactly where you are," as soon as his pants were off she climbed across him to straddle his hips. He let her take his length in hand and guide it to her entrance.

Now for his favorite part of their joinings- Nesryn bit her lip and groaned as she pushed herself down onto him. Her breath hitched and her body tensed as she stretched to accommodate the sheer size of him. He was panting and tense as well, but he loved to watch her in those first moments before her body adjusted to him.

Nesryn's toes were curled when she finally settled against his lap. She was as full as she could comfortably be, and she smiled as he grabbed her chin and began to kiss her once more.

"Once I've come, you can do whatever you want," she murmured against his lips. Nesryn was as tired as her lover, and while she didn't mind if he continued to play with her once she'd climaxed, she couldn't muster the energy to participate.

Sartaq laughed, "I've only got one in me as well."

She leaned back and raised an eyebrow, "Well in that case when we're done I hereby command you to carry me upstairs and bathe us both."

"As you wish," he purred.

Nesryn rested her hands on Sartaq's chest and rolled her hips, shifting him inside her. Her toes curled at the wondrous sensation and a warm shiver licked her spine.

Sartaq's arms wrapped around her, holding her against him as she began to move in earnest, rising and falling enough to take advantage of the delicious friction without having to leave his embrace. Nesryn dipped down and kissed him again. Her hands found their way into Sartaq's hair, and she held his head in place, lest he try to lavish more attention on her neck.

She wanted to come with his mouth against hers where she could feel every sharp inhale and enjoy his desperate moans. Hearing someone as disciplined as Sartaq lose control made her blood boil and her core pulse with need. A broad hand slid down to her hip, helping to lift her as she rode him.

Nesryn felt the need between her legs turn into something sharp-edged and all consuming. She was forced to end the kiss with Sartaq, but their lips just barely touched as they panted for breath together. He was as close as she was, and Nesryn could feel him shaking with the effort to resist his release. He was doing it for her sake, to give her a chance to finish first.

"Almost," she moaned against his mouth. Sartaq responded by slamming his hips up into her against the rhythm she'd set, interrupting her control. Nesryn cried out and by his third thrust, he felt her walls clamp down on him as her muscles went tight and loose at the same time.

She cried out his name as he let his own control slip and began to spill himself inside of her. Sartaq never stopped moving, drawing out her climax and his as long as possible. His heat mixed with hers as Nesryn's hands dug into his hair and chest, holding him tight as her world exploded.

Sartaq was done before her, so he slid a hand between their bodes and whipped at Nesryn's knot until her body began to shake and she suddenly pushed back from him, breaking their contact. He slid from her in the motion and Nesryn laughed, even as she twitched with phantom bolts of pleasure, "Good boy."

"I always try my best," he crawled the length of her body and kissed her again. Nesryn's arms wrapped around his neck and he managed to work two arms beneath her torso before sitting up, dragging her along with him.

"Bath time?"

"Bath time, as my lady commanded," Sartaq stood with Nesryn in his arms and laughed as she wrapped her legs around his hips. He held her tight as he carried her to the master bedroom to bathe.

Nesryn was asleep in his arms by the time he reached the bathroom, and she didn't wake as he filled the tub and lowered her in. Sartaq washed them both, smiling to himself all the while at the beautiful creature beside him.

"I love you," Nesryn murmured after Sartaq carried her from the bathroom again, toweled dry and uncharacteristically warm from the bath.

"I love you too," he kissed her forehead and set her down in her place on the bed. Once Sartaq was tucked into her back with an arm around her torso, he pulled up the comforter and breathed in the scent of her hair once again.

In that moment Sartaq decided it didn't matter how many parties they had to endure or how many armies of people marched through the embassy during the festivities, he could survive it all on just the scent of his love's hair and the warmth of her body beside him.

He couldn't imagine a more perfect life than the one fate had blessed him with.

Sartaq smiled as he drifted off to sleep with the only gift he could ever wish for already wrapped in his arms.


	12. Morridwen Edition

**A Peaceful Night (Morridwen Edition)**

Long after the festivities were over and the guests had drifted back to their own homes, Mor found herself walking through the wreckage of her modest estate in Velaris.

Scraps of wrapping paper and torn ribbons festooned the entryway, parlor, and back halls. Dishes covered in scraps of food were piled high on every available surface. Mor's ears still bled with the roaring din of endless noise- much of it her own as she chatted idly with her guests.

In all over a hundred fae trickled through the estate for some early Solstice celebrations- all fae couples she and Cerridwen had befriended over the years at Rita's club. It was thanks to Rita's parties that she and Cerridwen were able to court freely before Mor revealed her secret to the Inner Circle. It was only fitting that on their first Solstice as a mated couple _they_ throw a party for _her_ for a change.

Mor and Cerridwen had prepared small gifts for everyone, mountains of holiday sweets, gallons of hot cocoa, and what felt like an entire farm's worth of roasted meat, potatoes, and vegetables. The sheer quantity was stunning to behold as they set up, but it was still barely enough. Just four little bags of holiday trinkets remained in the entryway- each neatly labeled for a couple who wasn't there that night.

Two days before Solstice and Mor had already survived her third party. The first was an early feast in Winter as Kallias formally swore Viviane in as High Lady before thousands of witnesses. On its heels came a more informal gathering of High Lords and Ladies in Day with Helion, then finally this party- somehow louder and more chaotic than either that preceded it. The next day she and Cerridwen would head to Feyre and Rhys' estate for two days of merrymaking (and drinking) before heavenly quiet returned.

Mor loved the light and life, but five gatherings in five days took its toll.

With a wave of her hand, Mor conjured a garbage sack and began in the kitchen. An insignificant blast of magic could easily take care of every scrap of mess in moments, but she didn't want it to be clean so quickly. She wanted to earn it, to feel a sense of accomplishment. Cerridwen was upstairs soaking in a candlelit bath, for her the same easing of stress would come from a job well done (and maybe her own bath later).

First, she cleared off every crumb of food or half-eaten cookie. Next, she set aside anything they might still nibble at the next day (which amounted to a plate of cheese slices and a few gingerbread cookies). In the parlor, she cleared all trash with the aid of another three bags, then it was the ruins of the buffet in the dining room, and finally wisps of debris in the entrance, yard, and guest bathrooms.

With the trash taken care of, there was finally space to move dishes into the kitchen to be washed.

The magic embedded in their house pushed back at her as she tried to take over the chores, but Mor pushed right back. Already she was feeling better. Methodical, tedious, repetitious- it was like training with Cassian without the aggravation.

She could sense Cerridwen moving around two rooms away, but Mor wasn't concerned. The half-wraith certainly understood what it felt like to be social-to-death, and there was no more mess in the parlor for her to clean. Cerridwen merely kindled the fireplace, straightened up a few decorations, and reclined on a low couch.

Mor stopped four times to dry the dishes building up in the drainboard, but even so she made quick work of her task. When she finally ran out of things to do and realized there was nothing left to tidy up, she smiled. The next two days of feasting and celebrations would be with their family, and she was looking forward to everyone's faces as they opened their Solstice gifts this year.

The mind-numbing task had given her brain a chance to remember that excitement and clear the fuzz out of her head.

Night's Third-in-Command (a title Mor retained though with the addition of Feyre she was actually fourth) busied herself making twin mugs of coffee with slivers of chocolate melted in. Knowing Cerridwen wasn't one for much caffeine, she ensured hers was more hot cocoa than proper coffee. A plate of slightly stale poppy-seed crackers accompanied the drinks- the only thing in the kitchen not holiday-themed.

"Feeling better?" Cerridwen tipped her head back and smiled as Mor entered the room. An oversized silver robe was the only thing between her and the couch, and she'd already opened it to feel the heat of the fireplace on her bare skin.

"How could I not?" Mor winked as she handed Cerridwen her mug. The half-wraith pulled her arms from the sleeves of the robe and scooted over so that Mor could sit beside her. "What about you? Feeling better?"

"Promise me that after Solstice we won't have any parties for a month."

"Two months," Mor clinked her mug against Cerridwen's. They were both supposed to attend the after-mating wedding of Thesan and his Captain of the Guard in late winter, but other than an orgy in Day they were absolutely _not_ interested in, no other invitations had arrived.

Cerridwen took Mor's mug from her hand and she obediently stood to remove the floor-length scarlet gown she'd worn for the party.

"Leave the jewels- and shoes- on," Cerridwen's eyes were burning as she drank in the sight of Morrigan. Her mate had on a half-collar of rubies that dripped down to her clavicle, sinful red lace panties, and golden high heels.

Mor smiled and pulled the combs from her hair, sending shimmering waves cascading down her back. She returned to her seat and Cerridwen passed back her mug. The half-wraith wrapped an ebony arm around Mor's amber torso and pulled her against her side. It was a simple comfort- to bask in the warmth of the fireplace with her mate beside her and a mug of cocoa-coffee in her hand.

"I have to pick up the final round of reports from our spies in the northern territories tomorrow," Cerridwen mused as she sipped her drink and listened to the fire crackle.

"I know."

"You have to be at the High Lord and Lady's estate by lunch," she shifted to murmur the words against her neck.

"I'm aware."

Cerridwen growled, "Then take the Cauldron-damned hint."

"What hint?" Mor teased. She innocently stretched- and when she settled one leg was over Cerridwen's. "We're just talking about our holiday plans."

Cerridwen grinned as Mor tightened her grip on the other's leg, holding her open.

"You assume a lot," Mor nuzzled the top of Cerridwen's head as her free hand traced lightly across her mate's throat. When Cerridwen closed her eyes and waited for Mor's kiss the golden one hesitated, then flashed a wicked smile, "Don't just hint, my darling. Take."

"Okay," her voice was slightly breathless. "Then- kiss me?"

Mor cocked an eyebrow, "Was that a question, or-?"

Cerridwen growled, "Kiss me. And make it good."

"That's my girl."

Mor was smiling as her lips brushed against Cerridwen's. The first kiss was chaste, light. Mor's fingers traced her collarbone. She was still smiling as she kissed Cerridwen again with a hint of the passion she intended to unleash. Cerridwen shivered in the fire's heat as she felt Mor's tongue flick across the seam of her lips, but she didn't take the offer when the half-wraith parted them for her.

Instead, Mor drifted away from Cerridwen's mouth, disobeying her instructions already. The golden one's soft lips never left the wraith's skin as she traced along the edge of her jaw to the delicate curve of her neck. Mor breathed in the scent of her soap, brushing her nose against the damp strands of hair that had fallen into the bathwater.

Her hand found its way to Cerridwen's breast, though it took the other a moment to notice. Mor's mouth against her neck made her heart race and her breath hitch. Blush crept across her cheeks and her chest grew flush. She'd told her to make the kiss good, Mor was doing her best to exceed expectations.

Cerridwen moaned as Mor gently rolled one of her peaked nipples between two fingers. Her thighs clenched and she panted when Mor's tongue found its way up the column of her throat. Mor nipped at her jaw before claiming her mouth once more.

The wraith grabbed the hand on her breast and pushed it down her torso towards the apex of her thighs. Mor didn't move, waiting to see precisely what she wanted. Cerridwen broke the kiss with a shuddering breath and both of them looked down to where her hand was poised and waiting. Cerridwen shifted her legs apart, then stretched her dark hand out across the back of Mor's tanned skin.

Slowly, she pushed Mor's fingers down until they parted her folds. Mor took the command and gently stroked as they both watched ebony folds wrap around gold. Cerridwen shivered against her and closed her eyes. Mor pushed Cerridwen's head back while her fingers gently slid through the gathering moisture between her mate's legs. Finally, Mor latched back onto Cerridwen's neck at precisely the same moment she plunged her finger deep into the wraith.

Cerridwen jumped and her grip on Mor's hand tightened. Mor kept her pace slow and measured, enjoying the whimpers and small moans that escaped her lover's lips. Cerridwen was rolling her hips, grinding against the hand that kept moving even as Mor loosed a breathy laugh.

"Was the kiss good enough?"

"Um-huh," Cerridwen bit her lip at the sweet sensation building inside of her.

"What should I do now?"

"Exactly what you are doing, and don't you dare stop," she turned her head to rest her forehead against Mor's. Burning amber eyes were already watching her when Cerridwen opened her own and met her heavily lidded gaze.

Mor just grinned and slid a second finger in.

It wasn't fair. Mor always teased and taunted Cerridwen. She wanted to play with her for a change- so even as she closed her eyes again and enjoyed the wondrous feeling of Mor's palm rocking against her knot and her fingers moving inside her, she took the hand that had been holding Mor's in place and reached down the front of Mor's scarlet lace panties.

She was already wet when Cerridwen's finger slid through her lower lips. Mor paused to change positions and slid across Cerridwen's lap to straddle her hips. Soon both females could enjoy the sight of their fingers disappearing into their mate's depths.

To Cerridwen, Mor's touch was burning hot, searing her through to her core.

For Mor, the wraith's icy fingers added an extra layer of arousing sensation that threatened to sweep her away.

Cerridwen's breath hitched as the wave inside her began to grow. Her fingers pumped in and out of Mor with greater urgency.

The golden one wanted to give into her own desires and take the first steps towards release, but she was exhausted from the party. She only had one in her, so she would save it even if it drove her mad. Cerridwen had a favorite position, and Mor would last as long as it took to give her that.

Cerridwen was so slick and soft inside that it was an effort to keep moving her hand and resist pouncing. The scent of her arousal was thick as any holiday pine or cinnamon scent in the air, and the way the firelight danced across her ebony skin-

"Slow down," Mor's whisper was a broken plea. She couldn't do it, couldn't last if Cerridwen continued on looking like that.

Cerridwen opened her eyes and grinned, "I win?" a hand pushed Mor's out from between her legs.

"I didn't know we were competing, but yes. You win," Mor's laugh was breathless. She was panting harder than Cerridwen was, and her arousal was dripping down the side of her thigh. If they went on much longer she would be a shivering mess.

Cerridwen pointed to a rug in front of the fireplace, "I want you there."

"What kind of position would you like?" Mor asked as she slid from the couch, removed her lace panties, and went to sit on the rug. She bent her knees so that her heels were firmly planted on the ground and fell back on her elbows. The position highlighted her toned legs, revealed her entrance swollen with need, and put on display the rubies around her throat. Her breasts were peaked and perfectly mouth-watering.

"Just like that," as soon as Mor was in place, Cerridwen slid off the couch and maneuvered so that one of her legs was over Mor's.

Now for Cerridwen's favorite part of their joinings- she bit her lip as Mor's heat pressed against her own and the slick flesh parted ever so slightly. Gold and ebony- the sight of their bodies pressed together was intoxicating. Mor's heat and Cerridwen's ice coming together in the most intimate way possible. The gentle folds splitting one another as two hard, desperate knots came in contact at last.

Cerridwen's toes curled as Mor began to slowly rotate her hips, swirling the bundles of nerves against one another. She didn't mind that this position meant it was impossible to kiss Mor. Cerridwen stroked a hand along the edge of her foot and lightly traced the curve of the heeled shoe.

"Once I've come you can do whatever you want," Cerridwen panted. She was as tired as her mate, and while she didn't mind if Mor devoured the moisture between her legs- as she usually did- she simply couldn't muster the energy to climax on the golden one's tongue.

Mor laughed, "This time I only have one in me as well."

"That's a first."

"I know, I must be drying up," Mor winked. Her breaths were rapid and shallow. Her ears filled with the wet sound of their bodies grinding against one another. It threatened to send her over the edge. Cerridwen's knot was pressed hard against her own and making it hard to resist giving in.

"Maybe we should see if we can't find a way to reverse the drought," Cerridwen reached between them with her free hand and placed her thumb an inch above Mor's knot. The golden one groaned as she began to swirl her finger, adding another angle of motion to the pleasure that radiated out.

"If you want me to squirt, you have to carry me upstairs and bathe me again once we're done."

"Deal," Cerridwen purred.

The pressure and motion of the hand against Mor's mound increased even as Cerridwen slid back ever so slightly. She still felt Mor's knot against hers, but now the sounds from their lower lips were harder to contain. Mor's head rolled back at the wondrous combination of sensation and sound, and a warm shiver licked her spine.

Cerridwen matched her pace as Mor began to move in earnest, riding both the hand and mound between her legs. Mor's mouth parted as her gasps turned into sharp, pleading cries. The half-wraith moaned and widened the arc of her hips so that their combined arousal was spread across the apex of her thighs. Her mouth watered at the thought of what it must taste like between Mor's legs at that moment.

Mor felt the need between her legs turn into something sharp-edged and all consuming. She fell back against the rug and gave up trying to hold her heels in place for Cerridwen's admiration. The new angle caused Cerridwen's cool, wet core to press hard against her knot.

"Almost," Mor moaned as she grabbed at her own breasts and threw herself headfirst towards release. Letting the wave crash over her would not achieve the flood Cerridwen wanted, she had to face it head on.

Cerridwen responded by grabbing her thigh and changing the angle of their movement, interrupting the rhythm they'd established. Mor cried out and by the third sweep of Cerridwen's hips she felt her core spasm as her muscles went tight and loose at the same time.

Mor screamed Cerridwen's name as a flood of burning moisture splashed across her mate's entrance. Cerridwen never stopped moving the hand on Mor's mound, drawing out her climax as long as possible.

The feeling of that raw, pure life Mor's body unleashed soaking her entrance shattered any sense of control Cerridwen had. Her nails dug into Mor's thigh as she bathed in the heat of it and came with a shout.

Lightning exploded behind her eyes as her body curled around Mor's leg and her hand left her mate's mound at last. She ground herself against Mor- though now it was more of a quaking shudder- and let the fire scorch her wraith half.

When the wave broke, Cerridwen's body fell limp. She felt something gently stroking her oversensitive knot- Mor's fingers carrying her through to the other side of her orgasm.

Cerridwen laughed, even as phantom bolts of pleasure wracked her body. Mor's hand left her and Cerridwen smiled, "Good girl."

"I always try my best," Mor pushed Cerridwen's arms from her thigh and repositioned so that she could hold her mate. Their lips met as their bodies pressed against one another and their legs tangled once more.

"Bath time?" Cerridwen asked once Mor broke their kiss.

"Bath time, please."

Mor groaned as she forced herself to stand. She held Cerridwen's hand, helping her up. Mor's moisture was splashed across Cerridwen's hips and dripping down her leg. She spared a glance at the rug. All it took was a wave of her hand for the remainder of her release to disappear, sparing them any embarrassment when the maids came to clean (though they left the robe and underwear strewn about).

They walked together up to the bathroom, each with their hand around the other's hips to help support them on shaking legs. Neither managed the stairs with much grace, but they were happily exhausted.

Cerridwen had Mor lay in the cool tub as she turned the knobs and filled it once more with hot water. It was Cerridwen who took a cloth and gently washed both of them, regretfully removing the last traces of Mor's release the easy way instead of the tasty one.

"I love you," Cerridwen kissed Mor's forehead when she was done.

"I love you too," Mor's eyes were closed, but she still managed to find Cerridwen's mouth with hers and deliver a deep, claiming kiss of her own.

They toweled dry and slid into bed, spooning beneath the covers to share warmth. Mor's face was buried between Cerridwen's breasts and her legs tangled around the wraith's. Each female stroked the hair of their mate as they drifted off to sleep.

In that moment Mor decided it didn't matter how many parties they had to endure or how many armies of people marched through their home during the festivities, she could survive it all on just the scent of her wife's skin and the warmth (or chill) of Cerridwen's body beside her.

Mor couldn't imagine a life more perfect than the one fate had blessed her with.

She smiled softly as she drifted off to sleep with the only gift she could ever wish for already wrapped in her arms.


	13. Lysaedion Edition

**A Peaceful Night (Lysaedion Edition)**

Long after the festivities were over and the guests had drifted away, Aedion found himself wandering through the wreckage of the Carravere estate.

Scraps of wrapping paper and torn ribbons festooned the entryway, parlor, and back halls. Dishes covered in scraps of food were piled high on every available surface. Aedion's ears still bled with the roaring of endless banter- much of it his own as he chatted idly with adults or (gently) roughoused with children.

In all over a hundred people tricked through the Orynth estate for some early Yulemas celebrations- all members or family of Aedion's Bane.

He and Lysandra had prepared small gifts for everyone, mountains of holiday sweets, gallons of hot cocoa, and what felt like an entire farm's worth of roast meat, potatoes, and vegetables. The sheer quantity of food was stunning to behold as they set up, but it was still barely enough. Just four small bags of sweets and trinkets remained- each neatly labeled for someone who hadn't made it to the party.

Two days before Yulemas and Aedion had already survived his third party. The first was an early feast in Orynth to formally mark the holiday with their friends in Adarlan, the first anniversary of Maeve and Erawan's defeat, and the unveiling of the monument to the Thirteen who Yielded. On its heels came a more informal gathering of the Cadre and Aelin to commemorate Gavriel's sacrifice (and get blasted drunk), and then finally this party- somehow louder and more chaotic than any that preceded it. The next day Lysandra would be flying to Perranth in Wyvern form to bring Elide and Lorcan back for two days of merrymaking (and more drinking) before heavenly quiet returned.

Aedion loved the light and life, but four gatherings in a week took its toll.

Even though he knew the servants would clean up the mess in the morning, Aedion picked up a trash bag and began in the kitchen. It would be easy to go upstairs and relax, but he wanted to do something with his own two hands. He wanted to earn it- to feel a sense of accomplishment and surprise the servants with an easier day than they were expecting.

Lysandra was upstairs soaking in a candlelit bath, for Aedion the same easing of stress and strain would come from a job well done (and maybe a bath of his own later).

FIrst, he cleared off every crumb of food or half-eaten cookie. Next, he set aside anything they might still nibble at the next day (which amounted to a plate of cheese and a few gingerbread cookies). In the parlor, he cleared all the trash with the aid of another three bags, then it was the ruins of the buffet in the dining room, and finally wisps of debris in the entrance and guest bathrooms.

With the trash taken care of, there was finally space to move dishes into the kitchen to be washed. Already he was feeling better. Methodical, tedious, repetitious- it gave his mind a chance to re-set and re-orient after the stress.

He could hear Lysandra come downstairs and head for the parlor, but he wasn't concerned she would start to help. She knew what it felt like to be social-to-death, and there was no mess in the parlor left for her to clean. Lysandra merely kindled the fireplace, straightened up a couple of decorations, and reclined on a low couch.

Aedion stopped four times to do the dishes building up in the drainboard, but even so he made quick work of his task. When he finally ran out of things to do and realized there was nothing left to tidy up, he smiled. The next two days of feasting and celebrations would be with friends rather than near-strangers, and he was actually looking forward to everyone's faces as they opened their Yulemas gifts this year. Especially Evangeline- Aedion and Lysandra had been squirreling away gifts all year for the girl. This would be the first Yulemas with presents, and they meant to spoil her rotten.

Aedion happily busied himself making twin mugs of coffee with slivers of chocolate melted in. A plate of slightly stale poppy-seed crackers (the only thing in the kitchen not holiday themed) accompanied the drinks onto a silver tray.

"Feel better?" Lysandra tipped her head back and smiled as Aedion entered the room. A scarlet silk robe was the only thing between her and the couch, and she'd already opened it to feel the heat of the fireplace on her bare skin.

"How could I not with a view like that?" Aedion winked and handed Lysandra her mug. She pulled her arms free of the sleeves of the robe and scooted over so that Aedion could sit beside her. "What about you? Feeling better?"

Lysandra sighed, "Promise me that after the next party we won't have any celebrations for a month."

"Four months," Aedion clinked his mug against Lysandra's, "But then we have to celebrate Josefin's birthday and you know that will be an Erilea-wide event."

"As it should be," Yrene had saved all of their lives while Josefin was growing inside her, they both deserved to be canonized as far as Lysandra was concerned. "Is Josefin too young for her own pony?"

"A year old? Yeah, just a bit too young," Aedion snorted. "How about you give her the pony when she's three. There are always abandoned snow leopard cubs turning up this time of year, train one of those for her. Chaol will love having a predator in the house around his child."

"Deal," Lysandra took Aedion's mug from him and he obediently removed his shirt before she returned it. Bargain struck, she nuzzled into his shoulder as he wrapped an arm around her naked torso and pulled her against his side. A simple comfort- to bask in the warmth of the fireplace with his mate in his arms and a mug of cocoa-coffee in his hand.

"I don't have to head out until a few hours after dawn," Lysandra mused as she sipped her drink and listened to the fire crackle.

"I know."

"Darrow isn't expecting you to pick up Evangeline until mid-morning." It still baffled Lysandra how that old prick had turned into putty in Evangeline's hands. He was her favorite babysitter now.

"I know that too," Aedion raised an eyebrow and peered down at Lysandra. His eyes drank in her breasts and he shifted the arm around her shoulders so that he could brush his thumb across the soft curve of one.

"We're completely alone," she murmured the words against his neck.

"I'm aware."

"Then take the damn hint," Lysandra growled.

"What hint?" Aedion teased. He innocently stretched- and when he settled one leg was over hers, "We're just discussing our holiday schedule."

Lysandtra grinned as he tightened the grip his leg had on her thigh, pulling her open slightly.

"You assume a lot," Aedion nuzzled the top of Lysandra's head as his free hand lightly traced her throat. When she closed her eyes and waited for him to kiss her he hesitated, then flashed a wicked smile, "Don't just hint. Take."

"Fine," Lysandra was slightly breathless as she huffed a laugh, "then- kiss me."

"That's more like it."

"Make it good," she added.

Aedion was smiling as his lips brushed against hers. The first kiss was chaste, light. Aedion's fingers traced her collarbone. His smile only grew as Lysandra kissed him again with a hint of the passion she intended to unleash. He felt her shiver in the fire's heat as his tongue flicked across the seam of her lips.

Lysandra let him enter her mouth as another shiver wracked her body- this one emitting a whiff of her magic. Between one kiss and the next her jaw shifted. Aedion felt the light scratch of shaved hair brush against his lip. He moaned as her beautiful breasts slid away, replaced by steely muscle. Aedion moved his hand to her stomach to feel the thick, corded muscles they both loved.

Aedion drifted away from Lysandra's mouth, disobeying her orders for a kiss already. His soft lips never left her skin as he traced along the edge of her new jaw to the curve of her neck. Aedion breathed in the musty scent, growing drunk on the perfume of it.

His hand slid back up to her chest, though it took Lysandra a while to notice. Aedion's mouth against her neck made her heart race and her breath hitch. Blush crept across her cheeks. She'd told him to make his kiss good, he was doing his very best to exceed expectations.

Lysandra moaned as he gently rolled a peaked nipple between two fingers. Her legs parted slightly as she directed a final wave of magic to form the long, thick shaft Aedion preferred. His tongue found its way up along the column of her throat before he claimed her mouth once more.

She grabbed the hand on her chest and pushed it down her torso towards the apex of her thighs. Aedion didn't move, waiting to see precisely what she wanted. She broke the kiss with a shuddering breath and both of them looked down to where his hand was poised and waiting just above her cock. Lysandra shifted her legs again and slid a hand down the front of Aedion's pants.

Slowly, he matched her movements and timed himself so that his fingers brushed against her shaft at the same time hers did his. Aedion took the lead and wrapped his hand more firmly around her. He stroked her firmly while staring deep into her shining green eyes. Lysandra gasped as Aedion's free hand slid into her hair, then pulled her head back so he could latch once more onto her neck as he slid forward and pressed his bulge against hers.

She quickly undid the front ties on his pants and pulled his cock free so that it slid alongside hers. Aedion rode her slowly, keeping his pace slow and measured, enjoying the whimpers and moans that escaped her lips as their shafts rubbed against one another. In her male form Lysandra's voice was deep and sensual. It made the blood boil in his veins with want.

Lysadra rolled her hips, grinding against him even as Aedion released her neck and loosed a breathy laugh.

"Was the kiss good?" he said.

"Um-huh," Lysandra bit her lip at the sweet sensation building inside her.

"What should I do now?"

"Exactly what you are doing," she turned to rest her forehead against his and reached around to slide her hands in the back of his pants. His breathing turned to heady pants as her index finger started to swirl around his rear entrance. "Where's the lubrication?"

"Upstairs. And no, I don't want to go get it," Aedion moaned as he felt her applying pressure. He reached over and pulled one of her hands back out. Lysandra kept rolling her hips, grinding against him as he sucked her fingers into his mouth and wetted them with his tongue.

Aedion released her and leaned forward to give her easier access. His gaze grew heavy as she pressed against his entrance. An appreciative shudder wracked his body when he felt himself give way and her finger slid in knuckle-deep.

When he fell in love with Lysandra Aedion thought- with some sadness- that nights like these would never come again. Nights where he could feel a hard cock against his, a broad chest beneath his hands, and feel his lover opening him in preparation for the ultimate arousal. He could never thank fate enough for granting him someone as wonderful, kind, infuriating, and generous as Lysandra. Someone he could be with without sacrificing his physical appetites for male or female companionship.

She kissed him again and Aedion's smile returned as Lysandra stretched him with a second finger.

"Stop-" Aedion forced himself to break the kiss. He got up from the couch and quickly undid the ties on his pants, freeing himself of them once and for all. With that Aedion straddled Lysandra's lap once again, wrapped a hand around both of their dripping members, and started to stroke them against one another. He pressed himself against her chest and those wonderful fingers pushed their way back inside of him.

They were both hard and in desperate need of release. Usually Aedion monitored the curve of her shaft and slowed his pace when he felt she was too close. This time though he was giving her full command, so he rubbed against her in time with her fingers in his rear.

Lysandra's breath hitched as the wave building in her began to grow. The movement of her fingers in his ass grew stronger, more forceful. She wanted to give into her own desires and take the first steps towards release, but Lysandra was exhausted from the party. She only had one go in her, so she would save it even if it drove her mad.

He felt so soft and warm inside, it was an effort to keep moving her hand and resist pouncing on him. The scent of Aedion's arousal was thick as any holiday pine and cinnamon in the air, and the way the fire illuminated his silhouette-

"Slow down," Lysandra's whisper was a broken plea. She couldn't do it, couldn't last if he continued stroking her like that.

Aedion opened his eyes and grinned viciously, "I win?" He released her shaft.

"I didn't know we were competing, but yes, you win," her laugh was breathless. She was panting harder than he was, and beads of precum dripped from the head of her member. If they went on much longer she was going to be a shivering mess. "Do you want to change positions for this?"

"I wouldn't dare," Aedion grinned. He wasn't in the mood to be taken roughly from behind (though it was certainly a preferred method of penetration). He wanted the intimacy of how they were now- chest to chest with their breaths joined.

It was time for his favorite part of the joining. Aedion spat in his hand and reached down to stroke Lysandra's cock, wetting it thoroughly. She licked her hand and added more moisture to his hole. He rose slightly and shifted forward. Lysandra and Aedion worked in tandem to press her member against his entrance while he slowly forced himself down onto it.

Aedion's toes curled as he felt the head slide inside. His breath hitched and his body tensed as he struggled to accommodate the size of her- a size he chose himself a long time ago. Inch by inch, with lances of both pain and pleasure crashing through him, Aedion let himself be filled. He kept a hand behind him to guide her inside and add lubrication as needed, while she stroked his cock and helped him relax onto her member.

He groaned as he finally settled against her lap and the cock in his ass pressed against a small knot deep inside. He was as full as he could comfortably be, and he smiled as Lysandra grabbed his chin and began to kiss him once more.

"When I've come, you can do whatever you want," he murmured against her lips. He was exhausted, and while he didn't mind if she continued to use him once he'd climaxed, he couldn't muster the energy to participate with much enthusiasm.

Lysandra just laughed, "I only have one in me as well tonight."

Aedion leaned back and slowly gyrated his hips to stir the cock inside him, "Well in that case when we are done you can carry me upstairs and bathe us both."

"As you wish," she purred. Her male form had enough upper body strength to comfortably manhandle her husband.

Aedion rested his hands on Lysandra's thighs and rolled his hips, shifting her again. She grinned at the wondrous sensation.

Lysandra rested her hands on Aedion's knees, holding him as they began to move in earnest. He rose and fell high enough to take advantage of the delicious friction without losing too much of her inside him. Lysandra's back pressed hard against the couch as she rolled her own hips to counter his movement.

His cheeks were flush and sensual desperation filled his eyes as Aedion's cock began to curve ever so slightly. Hearing someone as disciplined as Aedion lose control made her blood boil and her cock pulse with need. She released one of his knees to massage the thin scrap of skin between his hole and balls, adding fuel to his fire.

Aedion felt the need between his legs quickly turn into something sharp-edged and all consuming. He was forced to rely on Lysandra more and more to maintain their rhythm as his body began to shudder. She was as close as he was, and Aedion could feel her shake with the effort to resist her release. She was doing it for his sake- giving him a chance to finish first.

"Almost," Aedion whimpered as he forced himself down harder and harder onto her lap. She responded by slamming her hips up into his against the rhythm they'd set, interrupting his control. Aedion cried out and by her third thrust Lysandra could feel his muscles clamping down on him.

He threw his head back and cried out as his cock erupted, splashing ropes of white across his own chest. Lysandra let her own control slip before he was even done she felt her cock erupt inside him. Aedion never stopped moving, drawing out Lysandra's climax as he felt her hot seed flooding into his ass.

A second wave struck Aedion as Lysandra filled him and he shouted her name. His cock seized, twitching against his stomach without anything left to give. He collapsed back onto her lap as the wondrous intruder inside of him began to wilt.

Lysandra slid herself from Aedion and gently rubbed an open palm along both of their shafts, bringing them down from their release slowly. Phantom bolts of pleasure lanced through them.

"Good boy."

"I always try my best," Aedion waved a hand blindly until Lysandra took it and helped pull him up. He tipped forward to lay against her chest where he could feel her heart thundering in her chest. This was where he appreciated her male torso the most. Breasts were soft and wonderful in their own right, but they somewhat muffled the feeling of her racing heart. This way he could feel as much as possible.

"Bath time?"

"Bath time. You may carry me," Aedion forced his feet behind her back, making Lysandra curse and scramble to accommodate him. He was promised a ride to the bathroom and would accept nothing less.

Lysandra struggled to stand with her husband clinging to her chest like an infant. His only move to help her was to reach back and cover his ass as she finally staggered to her feet, keeping her release inside him and off the floors.

Aedion was half asleep in her arms by the time they reached the bathroom. He released her and settled into the tub, but by the time she turned on the water and re-took female form he was barely conscious.

She wiped his cum from his own chest as he- with eyes still closed- called upon the thin stream of water magic in his veins to clean some of her release from inside him. Aedion's breathing was deep and even as Lysandra leaned back against his chest to rest a moment. He halfheartedly took the washcloth from her and brushed her chest to remove the splotches from where her male chest had pressed against his cum on the way up.

"I love you," Lysandra murmured.

"I love you too," Aedion revived long enough to pull her from the tub and carry her to their bed. He kissed her forehead and tucked in behind her. Lysandra hummed as she pulled his arm up to rest between her breasts and curled both of her hands around his.

In that moment Aedion decided it didn't matter how many parties they had to endure or how many armies of people marched their way through the home during the festivities, he could survive it all on just the scent of Lysandra's hair and the warmth of her body beside him- whatever form she may be in.

He couldn't imagine a more perfect life than the one fate blessed him with.

Aedion smiled as he drifted off to sleep with the only gift he could ever wish for already wrapped in his arms.


End file.
